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If ever Old Age take delight in surveying 

The haunts of the Youth and the home of the 
Child, 
Then surely he'll pause where his young footsteps 
straying 
Have been on the banks of the brooklet beguiled. 

"Changeless" Page 76 



PHOCION. 

A Dramatic Poem, and 
Other Poems. 



yliho' 



By Ef AnDOYLE 



Published by the Author. 
Winchester, Ohio. 
1910. 






Copyright 1896, 1898, 1903 and 1910, by E- A. 
Doyle. All rights reserved. 



COMPOSITION BY JOHNSON & HARDIN 

PRINTED BY JOHN GABLE 

THE CASSEDY CO. BINDERS, CINCINNATI, O 



'©01.427870,0 



PREFACE. 

♦ 

In tssuing this first collected edition of his poems, 
The Author wishes to express his gratitude for the 
favor his work has received from an appreciative, 
but limited circle of readers, and the renewed obli- 
gation it imposes, and hopes to merit a continuation 
of the same regard from the larger public to which 
this volume is now introduced. 

WiNCHESTEE, Ohio, Octobeb 20, 1909. 



INTRODUCTORY NOTE. 

This volume contains a collection of poems composed dur- 
ing ten years. The dates appended to each division of the 
book are the dates of publication. The illustrations were 
furnished by the Bucher Engraving Co., of Columbus, and the 
Queen City Engraving Co., of Cincinnati. The illustration of 
the flagship "Brooklyn" is copied by special permission of the 
S. S. McClure Co., of New York, from McClure's Magazine for 
September, 1898. 



iY 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE. 

PHOCION: A DRAMATIC POEM a 

11— POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Changeless , 75 

Willoughby Lake 7^ 

The Past 77 

The Reverie 78 

The Christian Graces 79 

Sleep 8» 

Hymn of Nature 81 

A Vision of Fame : 84 

The Tornado 8T 

The Terror King 8» 

Hymn of the Fire Worshipers 90 

Gates of Pearl 96. 

To Washington 104 

Washington's Advance 105 

Lines Suggested by the Death of Robert Browning 107 

An Ode to a Sicilian Vase 115 

Ode to the Brave Warrior 118 

Song of the Blackbird 120 



On the Death of R. A. Proctor, the Astronomer 121 

Will of the Mill 124 

The Steamer Clyde » 128 

Ultima Thule 131 

Ode to a Dewdrop 134 

The Bum 135 

Alcibiades 140 

A Dream of Andalusia 143 

Ode, on Viewing Liberty Bell at the World's Fair in 1893 . . 146 

A Dream 148 

Morning Song 150 

Evening Song 150 

The Cloud 151 

The Warning 152 

Coquetry 152 

May 153 

October 154 

Quatrains. Time, Peace Joy, Sorrow 155 

Pleasure, Virtue, Knowledge, Wisdom 156 

The Maid of Lepanto 157 

Transmigration 159 

Time, Fate and Chance 163 

In a Flower Garden 166 

Ballad of Mary Ann 168 

Courtship on the Bicycle 170 

A Modern Version of Little Red Riding Hood 172 

Epitaph on the Death of a Young Cat 175 

IIL— IHE LIGHT OF LIFE: A MEDLEY 178 



VI 



IV,— POEMS RELATING TO THE SPANISH AND CUBAN 
WAR. 

Cuba's Appeal 189 

Sonnet: Cuba 191 

Cuba's Call 191 

Cuba Libre 192 

Columbia's Lament 193 

The Labors of Miss Clara Barton in Relieving Suffering 

in Cuba 195 

The Maine 196 

Prophetic , _ 197 

Assassination of Canovas 198 

The Cry of the Nations 200 

Gomez's Reply to the Offer of a Bribe 201 

The Dying Soldier on the Field of Battle 202 

Sonnet on the Maine 204 

The Four Naval Heroes 205 

Thanksgiving Day Ode 209 

Sonnet: In Commemoration of American Victories 212 

Christmas „ , 213 

An Evening Scene 213 



Phocion: 
A Dramatic Poem. 

1897. 



Arma virumque cano * * * 

* * * Fato profugus * * * 

Litora, multum ille et terris iactatus et alto 

Vi superum saevae memorem Junon s ob iram, 

MuUa quoque et hello passus, dum conderet urhem. 

Virgil. 



Preface to the First Edition. 

In the following series of imaginary adventures, little at- 
tempt is made by the author to preserve that unity usually 
regarded as essential in productions of this class. The com- 
position, while dealing with the mysterious, is shrouded in 
mystery. This is the author's most ambitious literary effort 
since the "Light of Life: a Medley," published in 1889, and 
if he has made no substantial addition to literature, he hopes, 
at least, to be afforded the satisfaction of knowing that he has 
not detracted from the charm of those ancient and medsEval 
myths and legends which have been the solsce and delight of 
mankind in all ages, from the nursery tales which are only 
used to amuse children, to the beautiful Greek stories that 
are the delight of the scholar and thinker, as well as the 
most desultory searcher after knowledge. However wild, 
fanciful or imaginary may seem to the reader Phocion and 
his mystic crew, to the author through long association, they 
have assumed the forms and shapes of living persons. (It ia 
perhaps, needful to add, that both the plot and the narrative 
are entirely original, no such person as Phocion ever having 
had an existence, to our knowledge, either in history or fiction, 
lest the reader may confound the hero with the Athenian 
general who bore the same name.) Doubtless, herein will be 
found many faults that were due to youth and inexperience, 
it having been written, for the most part, by the author, before 
he had reached the age of twenty-four — while there may be 
faults, both in thought and expression, for which even this 
excuse will not wholly atone. If such there be, he asks the 
reader's forbearance, assuring him that it will be gratefully 
appreciated by The Author. 

WiNCHESTEK, Ohio, Novembek 16, 1896. 



PHOCION: A Dramatic Poem 



Note. — Phocion, Deputy-Governor of a sea-coast Prov- 
ince of Asia, deposes Cyrus, a half-brother, whom he or- 
ders confined in a dark cave, and, after a certain period, 
put to death; and, aided by such of his subjects as he could 
incite to rebellion, himself seizes his throne. He is no sooner 
upon the throne, however, than a faithful subject of the de- 
posed king conceives the idea of appearing to the new king 
in the disguise of the spirit of Prophecy, and persuading him 
to go in search of a mythical island, lying about one hundred 
leagues to the eastward, which, he was told, rivalled the fa- 
mous Gardens of the Hesperides, and possessed a most fruitful 
soil. This, he was told, he should conquer and annex to his 
own realm. It should then be colonized, and a new order of 
society established, founded upon equal rights and laws, until 
the golden age should return. Phocion, fired with ambition, 
is elated with the project, and, tormented with remorse on 
account of his treachery, and, as he believed, fratricide, is the 
more easily duped by the trick, and, gathering together a few 
subjects who were faithful to his cause, fitted out a ship 
for the voyage. After a few days' sailing, they land several 
leagues to the southward. This is not the land which it had 
been indicated in his vision he should inherit, so Phocio?^ pro- 
poses to again set sail, to the great dissatisfaction of his men, 
who were weary and filled with anxiety to return home. In 
the succeeding adventures of Phocion and his crew, they 
are pursued by Fate, and their ship almost lost in a fearful 
tempest. During his absence, a faithful subject of the deposed 
king, relieves him from his imprisonment in the cave, and, 
amid acclaim, restores him to the throne. In expiation of his 
crime, Phocion and his crew are made to encounter many 
dangers, but finally arrive safely into the port from whence 
they started, where Cyrus receives the sailors with rejoicing. 
The plot of the composition is partly founded on the Greek myth 



4 PHOCION. 

which supposes an avenging Nemesis, who is swift to follow 
and punish crime. The time is about A. D. 100.] 

DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 

Phocion, King of the Country. 
ToTORAN, A General, Second in Command. 
PSYBAS, A General, Third in Command. 
Captain, Lieutenant, Soldiers. Greek Slave, Pelot, Spy, 
Boy, Spirits, Fates, Furies, Destinies, Etc., Etc. 

Scene. — An island in the Mgean Sea. Phocion 
and his companions on hoard a ship moored to the 
coast. 

Phocion. 

Go, tell the mate to fling 

The cordage loose, and swing 
The ropes aboard which bind this thick-ribbed boat; 

For, straight against the sun 

An hundred leagues we run: 
Draw in the plank and set the ship afloat. 

TOTORAN. 

What ! Leave this sunny land, 

This broad protecting strand, 
And with the treacherous elements to cope? 

Upon this unknown sea 

Waits death and misery : 
We seek we know not what — a forlorn hope. 

PSYRAS. 

Why leave this peaceful land ? 
Once we at thy command 
Left home, of wif 3 and children all bereft ; 



PHOCION. 

The gods across the foam 

Decreed a fairer home— 
A sunlit land surpassing that we left. 
Captain. 

Here grows the branching palm, 

Here wafts a gracious calm 
The breeze that off the aged ocean blows ; 

Cut off and separate far 

From desolating Nvar, 
Let us not tempt the fates to seek our close 
Phocion. 

Think you then that I am 

A guilded, painted man 
To ask and not require the thing I ask, 

Then, slaves, upon this shore, 

Stay, cowards, forevermore! 
Alone I will pursue my appointed task ! 
Greek Slave. 

My ancient fathers, 

Could they hear this eloquent flow 
Of speech, how would their noble bosoms swell? 

The present hour should try 

Their courage, prove it high — 
Follow they would, nor ask if ill or well. 

All Officers. 

No, since our worthy head. 

Exemplar, hast decreed 
That we essay to plough the stormy main. 

Our immediate acts shall prove 

Our lealty and love. 
Fresh courage bind our hearts with a securer chain. 



6 PHOCION. 

Greek Slave, (aside.) 

Away, you coward dogs, 

With hearts of lizards, frogs. 
Dissemble heat they may in natural health, 

When dark disaster's near, 

When love gives place to fear 
I prophesy mutiny that walks by stealth. 
{A Mood-red star suddenly appears in the heavens 
and, glowing intensely for awhile, finally disappears.) 
Spy. (Pointing to the star.) 

Lo ! in the heavens a sign ! 

This warning scroll divine 
It needs no seer or prophet to unroll; 

A star of fiery hue 

Shines lambent through the blue. 
Appoints our doom and measures out our dole. 

Phocion. (Impatiently.) 
Go, tell the Captain fling 
The cordage loose, and swing 
The ropes aboard which bind this thick-ribbed boat, 
For, straight against the sun 
An hundred leagues we run. 
Draw in the plank and set our trusty craft afloat. 
Seer. (With hook of magic in his hand.) 
Star that hangst lowering 

Red on us here. 
That in heaven's towering 

Dome dost appear. 
Dart thou a spiracle 
Out as by miracle, 
Show us thine oracle, 

Make our fate clear! 



PHOCION. 

{Prophesying .) 

Dark shadows shall follow thee, 
And storm 'cross the main ; 

Chaos will swallow thee, 

Waves blood-red shall stain. 

Ship that begiiilingiy 

Sailst forth half smilingly. 

This direful prophecy 

The fates bid make plain. 

First Seaman. 
Ho, Fool ! what holdest thou in thy right hand ? 

Second Seaman. 
In sooth, I think it is a magic wand. 

Third Seaman. 
And what would he attempt to prove by this ? 

Fourth Seaman. 
Simply that the ship's course will be amiss. 

Fifth Seaman. 
And how will he this declaration prove? 

Sixth Seaman. 
A prompter's box he occupies for Jove. 

Seventh Seaman. 
Less heed he pays to Jove than magic-books. 

Eighth Seaman. 
He doubtless is not quite the fool he looks. 

Pilot. 
Far as my view extends the way is clear. 

Spy. 
I see no dark obstruction hovering near. 



8 FHOCION. 

Ninth Seaman. 

His prophecies are, cloul)tl( ss, based on air. 

Tenth Seaman, 
If he deceiveth, may he perish there. 

TOTORAN. 

Unloose the rigging, free the ship, 
The ropes make taut for a long sea trip. 
Alas ! our path is all untried : 
We stem the force of an unfriendly tide; 
The heaven in blank amazement stares 
And shapes our course into endless snares , 
But, courage, our hearts are stout and bold, 
Much store of food lies in our strong hold, 
Our larder stocked with bird and heast 
So, with fish in the sea — we long shall feast. 
The choicest fruit of the vine doth blink 
In jugs and bottles — so we long shall drink; 
"Would we by our own native courage stand, 
Then, indeed, were this vessel giant-manned. 

Stoic. 
Laugh we, childlike, at the fates awhile. 
Presently, we entice their smile. 
But cower we there like yon empty seer. 
No price for our blood had proved too dear; 
Seek not to pervert the predistined end — 
Who is true to himself, him all things befriend. 

TOTORAN. 

Your words come in like a grand refrain 
Of martial music, make what I said plain ; 
Surely they to your master's tongue 
Would not unworthily belong! 



PHOCION. 9 

So, obedient, let us onward go, 

Dreading no foe but our own heart's foe. 

What though the unfavoring heavens are rent 

To secure our death and banishment; 

We will travel on to the endless shades 

Not as one who his own foul fortune upbraids, 

But as heroes whom a chance breath o'erthrew, 

To rise again for achievements new ; 

But if come honor and victory, 

Then yours be the spoils, who have dared to die. 

(They prepare to embark, amid hustle and con- 
fusion.) 

Soldiers. 
We go, whether it be ill with us or well. 

Phocion. 
Hear you how firm my noble soldiers speak ? 

TOTORAN. 

So strong no danger can their spirits shake. 

PSYRAS. 

In sooth, I think they are invincible. 

Boy. 
could I play upon the village green. 
Where once I played, how happy I had been ! 

First Seaman. 
See our Captain wrinkled — 

Second Seaman. 
And wizened and hardened — 
Third seaman. 
And crabbed and crinkled — 

Fourth Seaman. 
Still less to be pardoned. 



10 PHOCION. 

Fifth Seaman. 
What is he doing? 

Sixth Seaman. 
Mischief is brewing; 

He the rope from the ring and the bolt is untying ; 
Soon we o'er the broad ocean waste will be flying! 
{The boat starts.) 

All. 
We bid farewell to the blossoming land; 
May our keel touch a softer, more fragrant strand. 

First Soldier. 
How ill exchanged is comfortable ease 
For war, or, even honor, glory, wealth; 
An even mind fair-poised, and joyous health 
Can not be purchased by such toys as these. 

Second Soldier. 
Why did I leave the kingdom of my birth, 

My wife and children, and my own fireside ; 
The world is rich in kingdoms far and .wide — 
They all to me are of but doubtful worth. 

Third Soldier. 
Why must we travel to a foreign land 
To peep into another man's abode; 
No matter what he has of fair and good, 
His spear and axe but awkward fit our hand. 

Fourth Soldier, 
We are embarked upon a bootless quest; 

The drooping heavens deign but a transient 

grace ; 
Mid storms and clouds she hides her wintry face ; 
Gods can but fail when man seeks ends unblest ! 



PHOCION. 11 

Fifth Soldier. 

See how yon palm-tree, sitting by the beach, 
As rood by rood we go, grows less and less ; - 
A friendly longing towards it I confess. 

There to return, fain am I to beseech. 

Sixth SoijDier. 

But forward look, to the vast horizon's ends, 
How roll and hiss and hollo wave on wave ; 
Our human hands are powerless to save. 

When no star guides, no deity attends ! 

" Captain. 

But yesternight I saw my blessed wife 

Wave half-way welcome as I drew near home, 
As though she fain would bid me not to come ; 

Or, hastening, learn what ills should vex my life. 

Then, as I nearer drew, methought her eyes 

Were red from weeping and her frame did shake, 
As though a palsied fear did boldly wake, 

To look through at me in a strange surprise. 

As into those twin orbs I gazed, her face 
Grew to so ashen hue I was 'mazed quite 
To know what sullen fortune thus could blight 

Where once sat light and gladness, angel-grace 

Then opened I my lips as if to speak. 
But she — she merely pointed to the door, 
Where lay my eldest child upon the floor — 

I grasped my staff, for I felt faint and weak. 



12 PHOCION. 

For close beside him ran a purple flood 
That slowly gathered to a little pool, 
And 0, did not the sight my eyes befool, 

There lay my first-bom, weltering in his blood. 

Dim, indistinct, and cloaked with gloom, there grew 
About the form of my beloved a haze, 
I ne'er have seen the like in all my days — 

For, horror of horrors, I seemed fading too ! 

And, suddenly, was the stream to a river grown^ 
And, all at once, into a raging sea; 
Broad, boundless, surging onward, it bore .me 

Into the blank and desolate unknown. 

Then woke I, I was pacing on the deck; 

Alone I paced, under a starless sky; 

The silent dew of heaven fell from on high. 
Yet stirred it not the yoke about my neck. 

Whene'er that bodeful vision comes again. 
Whene'er I see those shadows hovering near. 
Chilled is my heart as with a wintry fear, 

And all my bones are shaken with dull pain. 

Stoic. 

You have been listening to yon seer; 
Were he not inconveniently near. 
Him would I a base impostor call, 
Such fools deceive the wisest of us all. 

Captain. 

Gould I resolve the visions of that night 
By logic's rules however numberless. 



PHOCION. 13 

Then would I rest in peace and quietness — 
Alas! I know not what to make of it! 

ToTORAN. {Addressing the King.) 

For half a score of months we've followed thee, 
Most noble Phocion, wheresoe'er thou'st led, 
Our terms a feeble sustenance, board and bed; 

Still, soon we hoped our journey's end to see; 

Still hoped that on each blessed morrow morn, 
That undiscovered land we would descry, 
The home of peace and calm tranquilityj 

Each setting sun but left us more forlorn. 

Still on we fared, nor did we e'er complain 
Of our sad fortune, or bewail our lot ; 
Oft as the bitter tear would start, we fought 

It down again, and quenched the aching pain. 

And often have I in the silvery night 

Crept softly down to the salt water's brim, " 
To watch the little fishes -float and swim ; 

It always was to me a pleasant sight. 

And stretched my hand out towards the glowing west, 
The land of sunset, and my own heart 's home ; 
0, could mine eyes pierce through the cheerless 
foam, 

See it once more, then would I sweetly rest. 

But my strained eye-balls would no sight relieve, 
Save the long stretch of ocean vast and wide ; 
With eager hands, I longed to clasp that tide. 

So it might waft me home, then would I live. 



14 PHOCION. 

But no — I stifled the thought, but half expressed 
To my inner self, it would not, could not be; 
At morn I cheered the men with merriest glee^ 

Rousing the ardour in each frozen breast. 

Now, vain my arts, your people would return; 
They say a fruitless, causeless quest you crave, 
Barren of promise, save a watery grave ; 

The fires of high emprise no longer burn. 

But, if you tell me whither lies that shore. 

Where gold and pearls lie thick as summer dust,. 
And niggard nature, that now grants a crust, 

Heaps up her blessings in a bounteous store. 

Then may I cheer the faint hearts of the crew. 
And rouse the latent lion in their eyes. 
So that fair fortune in what e'er disguise 

It comes, perchance may find us leal and true. 

PSYRAS. 

Even whilst we speak, yon mischief -brewing cur, 
A loud-mouthed, shrill-tongued, star-eyed prophet- 
devil, 
A fiend incarnate of mischievous evil, 
Rank discord sows among the men, doth stir 
To contemplation of most sanguine acts. 
And all with which base cowards most agree, 
I swear that these are well-attested facts. 

Phocion. 
Soft ! his gay boastings will not stir a blink, 
I' their eyes, they cannot his vain chaffings drink; 
I have a wonderful event to tell, 
That for our fair achievement bodeth well. 



PHOCION. 15 

ToTORAN AND PsYRAS. (Together.) 
We joyful hear what thou hast to relate, 
What e'er thou speakest, we in obedience wait. 
Phocion. (Relates his Vision of the Spirit of 

Prophecy.) 
I was musing by the seashore, when a spirit came to 

me. 
From out the dusky curtains of the dim and moonlit 

sea; 
First she cleft the crested billows, then in ripples 

hurled them back. 
Slowly, softly, rising, falling, o'er the ocean's fur- 
rowed track; 
And they trembled for an instant, then subsided and 

were still — 
Charmed to silence by the magic of the mighty mov- 
er's will; 
Silent as a night in summer now no breeze its surface 

fanned. 
Rolled the solemn, silent stormless ocean forth from 

strand to strand. 
And the chill air knew no murmur, and its breezes 

breathed no sigh. 
And half a world seemed caught in a reflection from 

the sky. 
Where was darkness, there was silence — ^twin powers 

whom the fates obey — 
Thus it was in endless vista to the portals of the day. 
Fair she was in form and feature who this mighty 

change had wrought; 
Flashed her eyes like beads of silver, and her words 

came quick as thought, 



16 PHOCION. 

Fair she was, save when across her glowing features 

came 
Now a purple-tinted candle, now an amber-lighted 

flame. 
Purest vest of gold adorning, fell in fringes by her 

side, 
As they faintly touched the water, laughed the ripple 

and the tide; 
And her raven curls in blossom, wavy tresses black as 

night, 
Parted clear above a face of angel-calm, of holy white. 
And I said: ''Not form of mortal, but of goddess 

wearest thou; 
Hangs a world's weight from thy shoulders, glooms 

beneath thy ample brow. 
Thou art come from some far planet, from some hazy- 
distanced sky, 
Where the sapphire fire of evening drinks the light 

that wanders by, 
Where the cold glare of the noon-tide quenches its 

beams, and in thy sight 
Darkens its bold glance in the splendors of thy soul's 

superior light; 
And the morning star shows dimly where its step once 

has been; 
Eclipsed are sun and moon and stars; they are no 

longer seen. 
And the myriad-orbed heavens show no prophecies of 

death. 
And the dew of gladness dances, mixing with the eth- 
er's breath." 



PHOCION. 17 

* * Truth, ' ' she said, ' * has told you wisely, for a favored 
place I hold, 

Though an humble in the councils upon Olympus old ; 

I was present when through the void ethereal spaces 
rolled the earth 

A spheral flame, and watched the slow volutions of 
its birth; 

I, the spirit am of prophecy, and hither am I come, 

To vindicate the ages when their oracle is dumb ; 

A ray of the eternal to flash hither, that may be > 

A blessing to the race of man, a lamp upon the sea. 

Long in a visioned sleep I lay of holy angel-calm. 

When from the heavens there showered the breath of 
flowers, a gracious balm, 

And with a mighty chorus-voice of angel minstrelsy, 

The sleep of ages broke in me ; I came to succor thee. 

To thee, Phocion, chief of men, heaven sent me to- 
night 

To guide your progress through the world, and lead 
your steps aright. 

An hundred leagues in Southern seas, there slumbers 
in the deep 

An isle sand bound with rock and stone, where 
breezes half asleep 

Ever wind in and out and curve among the blossoming 
trees. 

Wherein strange birds, at intervals, make unheard 
^lelodies. 

Though cheerless is its outward look, forbidding is 
its coast. 

The inland river-beds run dry, show gems of price- 
less cost. 



18 PHOCION. 

The pear, the peach, the pomegranate, the orange and 

the lime, 
Forever bud and bear, and make perpetual summer- 
time; 
Perfumes so soft and delicate, they seem like gossamer, 
Or, else, the faint exuded breath of some pellucid 

star; 
And nature of her corn and grain supplies a store 

unending. 
Which only wants a hand to dress, and care and skilful 

tending ; 
There you shall found a kingdom based on liberty and 

worth, 
Where honest merit wins the race, and not the chance 

of birth ; 
Where each man is a freeman — each lord of his estate. 
Each as his neighbor wise and good, and all rich, free 

and great. ' ' 
She said, and for a moment stood, then disappeared in 

flame : 
And in rising vapor disappeared and vanished as she 

came. 

PSYRAS. 

This I am nothing doubting you should tell 
The men : a mutiny perhaps 'twill quell. 

Phocion. 
Friends, comrades, soldiers, all assembled here, 
Heroes of many a war and bloody battle-field ; 
Strong arms the dart to poise, the unerring lance to 
wield, 
Whose eyes of deep resolve strike the foe mute with 
fear — 



PHOCION. 19 

Greeting, may fortune fair yet grant you many a day, 
Her blessings plenteous heap, and rich upon each 

head; 
May the propitious fates of life spin out the thread 

To a green age, and shine refulgent on your way. 

But yet I grieve to hear a general murmur run. 
And grow and multiply in our midst, O may it 

bode no ill 
To this, our lofty enterprise, by treachery to fill 
Your hearts with dismal fears that would exclude the 
sun. 

It ill befits that warriors brave, who 've dared so nobly, 
fought so well 
On many a field and every field, should fall a prey 

to sickly fear ; 
Rise, comrades, show the powers of ill a mighty 
army doth appear — 
Yet, Doubt is written on each brow : its cause now let 
each soldier tell. 

First Soldier. 
A treasure island set in the deep sea 
Have I, and by none other tenanted 
Nor blooms its heaths and hollows but for me, 

Nor showers its blossoms but to adorn my head. 
The traveling tourist calls it lone and dead — 
He scorns the solemn shore, the funeral wood: 

Of present joy or comfort desolate ; 
For there the world's vast tumult is subdued 

Into a slumberous sob which beats against its gate. 
There I a stately palace did upraise. 
Built for my soul's enchantment and delight; 



20 PHOCION. 

By slow toil consecrate, and length of days, 
And weary hope deferred from day to night ; 
And there, I said, no chill wind's breath shall. 
blight 
My household idols, nor her peace destroy: 

For earth then held no rarer, simpler store, 
Than that my chiefest pleasure and my joy, 

Should at my feet be found, flourish by my own 
door. 

My amber lakes with clear and lucid waves 

Were furnished for the finny tribes beneath ; ' 
They take rich solace in those shallow caves: 

Mid rocky clefts they shun the approaching death; 
Shall I not thus escape contagion's breath 
And live my life of ease innocuous. 

So men may say of me, "Behold the man 
"Who cares not for our baubles, heeds not us?" 

Such is his life that is attuned to nature's, plan. 

Second Soldier. 
My father was Apollo's priest, 
And, as his constant cares increased. 
He often vowed that I should be 
A sharer in his mystery : 
His admonition in my breast 
Beat down aught else, and I confessed 
My mind from infancy was bent 
To serve divine commandment. 
Then came your levy, which, to fill 
Men thronged with eager heart and will — 
The best and bravest of the land : 
The project faster grew than planned : 



PHOCION. 21 

Robbed was the temple, court and shop — 
The business bulwark and the prop: 
The incense reaching now the gods 
Is small, to me it makes less odds. 

Third Soldier. 
At home, I beat the ruddy gold : 

The precious metal in my hand 
Assumed a visioned shape, my mold 

And forge are famed throughout the land; 
Coins for the king and drinking-cups. 

Knives, forks and spoons I make and carve, 
So that my sovereign when he sups 

For plate and platter will not starve. 

Two sons I have with flaxen hair 

And light blue eyes, of tender years; 
They all the cares of business bear — 

Yet is my heart oft vexed with fears 
The work's too hard, respite too brief, 

And that 'twere better unessayed ; 
No father's hand affords relief. 

Or joins them in their arduous trade. 

Fourth Soldier. 
Last night, when stars were none or few, 
And no moon lit the vault of heaven, 
I stood on the deck, but my soul flew 
Back to an isle of seven ; 

To a spot where trailing ivy swept 
O'er mossed sand-stone, to intercept 
The light that half the long day crept 
Slow up the beach where an orange-tree 
Showered blossoms on the sea ! 



22 PHOCION. 

It formed a choice, a quiet bower, 

A place for love 's own feast ; 
We felt and owned its magic power — 
My love and I — precious the hour 

We passed as the year increased : 
When bud and bell were bursting forth 
By summer's solstice called to birth; 
Our season chimed with all the earth, 
At odorous eve, beside the tree 
Showering blossoms on the sea ! 

The pearls in her cheek grew ruby-red, 
Her beaded eyes more darkly flashed, 
The colors burned out where they fed, 
As with her finer soul they clashed ; 
Our fates to join, our hearts to wed, 
The last night we stood there, I spread 
A wreath of blossoms on her head — 
The selfsame which that orange tree 
Sheds showerlike on the sea! 

But now my bride sits pensive, lone. 
She knows not where to turn or look, 

But gazes on each herb and stone 
Fear-chilled and ague-shook; 

Or, reads the oracles of the skies 

In lines of doubtful destinies, 

As her faint heart replies, 

(She yet some hope would seize 
From these celestial auguries) : 

"0, yet may meet our mutual eyes, 
In seats beneath that orange tree 
That watches by the sea!" 



PHOCION. 23 

Fifth Soldier. 

I met my soul upoji the giddy dance 

Of pleasure, pomp and power; 
I said, "Why do gay dreams and fairy hopes thy 

powers entrance; 
Why art thou thralled by the world's heartless 
glance — 
The passing hour." 

The hour that pauses not its waves, nor breaks 

Into one calm glad sea; 
But murmurs fretfully, and froths, and takes 
Fresh dazzle from the sun, glittering in formless lakes 

Eternally. 

That fixes with the limits of a law 

The unchained mind ; 
That says : ' ' Thus shall you walk with men, thus draw 
Your heavenly sustenance, Truth without a flaw 

Here you shall find." 

Behold, the days gather themselves to years 

For your delight. 
The dews have changed to showers, the smiles to tears ; 
The hymns to wailing, and the hopes to fears, 

The day to night: 

The night again to day, the grief to joy, 

Wailing to song ; 
The floods to rainbows, for the gods employ 
Strange messengers, and heighten or destroy 

The weak and strong. 



24 PHOCION. 

Shall then the times which are men's ministers 

Say : ' ' So ye shall serve me ?" 
Or, waiting for our true place, accept hers ? 
Let nature answer, for she knows where stirs 

The wandering bee. 

Shall we let life's light music make us mad — 

The praise of the world's men? 
Shall we in turn be sorrowful or glad. 
So men may say : ' ' Whether he 's light of heart or sad, 

'Tis ours to ken ? " 

So mused I, and far from men's gaze 

Sought out a still abode ; 
A calm philosopher to end my days, 
Heedless, alike, of the world's blame or praise: 

It's curb or goad. 

So the pure light of reason yet would grant 

One ray, I craved no more : 
The joys for which inferior natures pant, 
The gross indulgence and the sensual want : 

I passed them o'er. 

Thus, with a contemplation-nourished mind 

I lived and worked and moved; 
Amid these influences, learned to find 
Peace, happiness, content, gold twice refined, 

Conscience-approved. 

Sixth Soldier. 

But one beam less of human, 

But one ray more divine. 
Thou hadst not long been woman ; 

Thou hadst not long been mine. 



PHOCION. 25 

An angel fair had grasped thee . 

-In skies, a mortal bride ; 
And mists of morn enclasped thee 
With rainbows at thy side. 

Through mortal lava dart thou, 
It shall not harm thy head. 
Thinkst dust and ashes art thou? 
Claimst thou kin with the dead? 

breezy curls in blossom, 

summer-blooming cheek, 
calm and radiant bosom 

That slumbers pale and meek ; 

Eyes that, transpiercing, thrill me, 
Quivering in their strange light — 

Soul that hath power to fill me, 
Show me thy one delight. 

A king of light and motion, 

Of giant goddess born. 
Holds he in air or ocean 

A realm storm-tossed and torn ? 

Or, in some hif^den chalice 

Of flower-laded breath, 
Where the deep dews' silver palace 

Gives never a hint of death. 

A race of strength immortal. 
Drawn from some stronger sun, 

To creation's farthest portal 
Its life's red currents run. 



26 PHOCION. 

May not my fervor freeze thee 
Who hear'st my plighted word; 

Tell me I yet may please thee, 
And others ' songs unheard ! 

Phocion. 

Rest, Country Home, what sovereign, magic words! 

What charming liquid notes, what solaced joy ! 
Sweeter than honey, or the songs of birds 

Than any touch or tone our tongues employ, 
To the world-wandering, rest-deserted soul, 

Tossed restlessly, without hope or goal 
Upon the angry surges of the world ! 

How is each daring project downward hurled, 
When beats the heart up to the fevered brain 

And pictures all the old home haunts again. 
Brighter for Fancy's coloring finger-tips, 

How is the day softer for the sun's eclipse. 
The night more radiant for the waning moon. 

And in the still wood when loud birds are mute, 
The small bird's more appreciated tune 

Sounds like mid jangling bells a shrill-voiced flute ! 
The field, the tent assume a sacred mien 

Dart to more prominence than they ere have been, 
And take the color of the higher life. 
Shrined like some sea-king above pain and strife. 
Without home, country, were patriot or king 
More than a gay boast, a word-painted thing — 
A name to live upon the lips and die, 
Not a great cause to fight for and stand by ? 
With these, more precious still is duty's call. 
For these we leave our homes and risk our all. 
To me there was revealed a favored land 



PHOCION. 27 

Of gold and silver, but, more rich, the soil 
Pours forth her blessings with a plenteous hand, 

And yields rich harvests with but little toil. 
Even now we reach that harbor and that shore ; 
There will we rest — we will return no more, 
But thither our children and our wives shall come j 
To build a kingdom, and to found a home. 
Shall we return, our project overthrow, 
Or with this calm assurance onward go? 

All Officers. 
We will go on. 
And rest not till a fairer day shall dawn. 

TOTORAN. 

How swiftly moves our little boat 
Through foam-flakes fleet advancing; 

While fish and everything afloat 
Are in the sunbeams dancing. 
Their doubtful fortunes chancing ! 

PSYRAS. 

And, straight ahead to the southwest 
A cormorant, winged for plunder 

Flies in swift haste and leads the rest, 
That dart above and under. 
Till the line breaks asunder. 

Captain, 

A fair, auspicious sign it is ; 
An omen for our guiding; 

Pluck faith, tired seamen from this 
Last break in fate's dividing 
Clouds, as we are riding ! ; 



28 PnOCION. 

Phocion. 

See, across the placid bosom of the sea a wealth of 
blossoms, 
Pale cherry, red currant, and almond, olive-brown, 
In an arrowy shower descending as the spring their 
shoots unloosens. 
A beam of summer sunshine they are gently sliding 

down. 
In a gleam of golden sunshine they are sliding to 
the ground! 

TOTORAN. 

And the tall oak half forgets in the breeze to shake its 
branches, 
For the wind, it moves so slow, whether it goes, 
whether it stays. 
Who can say? The little wefts of bloom are fain to 
take their chances. 
Twinkle a moment and are lost in the gentle woody 

ways. 
Glimmer a brief space and are buried mid the heaps 
of summer days. 

PSYRAS. 

And the straighter pine-tree nods against a sea of 
blue, serenely 
"Whispering to that sea a passionate, transient tale 
of love : 
If earth and sod beneath its feet are green, yet no less 
greenly 
Mixes with the azure air a gaudy green above — 
Mingle with the hyaline the pine-tops of that grove I 



PHOCION. . 29 

Phocion. 
Calm is the air, calm the earth, calm the sea, 'tis a 
silent and slumbrous day, 
'Tis a day for dream and prophecy, not a day for 
battle and strife ; 
Though strong our hearts as ocean, steadfast as 
Truth's pure ray. 
We must loosen our spirit's toils, feel our pulses 
flutter with life — 
Shake off the drowsy spell of slumbrous, keen delight, 
Diffused by the earth and the air, by the sun, the 
moon and the stars. 
'Tis ours to carve a way through the deep, make a 
path through the nether night. 
Of Fortune and Fate to burst the insensate bars. 
And build us a name and a nation, and rear us such 
prodigies. 
By the earth they are unconfined, they shall seize 
on the hoary skies 
Their secrets to wrest by main force, and their strong 
arm. 
To enrich and ennoble the earth, and rescue the 
weak from harm. 
Till, throughout the world shall multiply the might of 
our name. 
So that all men may read by the light of their own 
hearth fires, 
And Justice, Liberty, our watchwords shall be, not 
the sword and flame. 
And a nobler fabric arise on the burned-out fanes 
of our sires. 
Ours, a truer life, a sublimer faith shall survive. 
Of Plato, Socrates, Moses, nay, but of human-kind. 



30 PHOCION. 

And Science shall bear her torch, and shall aid us as 

we shall strive 
For a juster equity, a purer art, a life less blind — 
A life that is strong- to uphold and cherish the works 

of the mind. 

TOTORAN. 

The sun is playing 'round our prow, cheerily the 

birds are singing, 

To-day's a fair holiday, our other days to crown^ 

Hope sees our progress, sets the sail and starts the 

breeze a-springing; 

Our star is silvered o 'er with light and dispossessed 

its frown ; 
So high its sparkling front appears, it can not 
twinkle down ! 

PSYRAS. 

Now, winter's frost is o'er with us, 'tis spring *» 

eternal blooming : 
There'll be rest and fair refreshment, there'll be 

days of calm delight. 
For the myriad-orbed heavens glow with light for our 

illuming. 
Making fire the air by day, and blazing through the 

night — 
And our course is ever onward, swifter than an 

eagle's flight! 

Phocion. 
Trust we not the light undoubting, fear we for the 
way before us. 
Though a thousand apparitions rise to whelm us in 
the main ? 



PHOCION. 31 

Let our voices hundred-strong swell up in full-toned 
chorus 
.To the gods that are our succor, to the gods that 

endless reign, 
And the eternal gods shall hear us, and will make 
our dark way plain ! 

PSYRAS. 

Our boat through silvery waves doth glide, 

And swiftly wafts the moving tide ■ 

To a far foreign shore. > 

In light and gladness breaks the day 
To guide us in our onward way, 

While fairer than before, 
A bow of promise bright sheds forth its clear and 
serene ray. 

In music rings the wilding breeze. 
The birds sing softer melodies 

To charm our listening ears. 
From sun-kissed earth to fervid skies, 
Their rapturous songs of praise arise, 

Until the man who hears 
Drops soft to slumbers deep, to dream of Paradise. 

Then, waking from that blissful dream, 
Sees naiads dancing in the stream, 

And wonders whether this 
Be true: the gods to earth have come, 
To make again their pristine home. 

Or, all a dream it is. 
And he shall wake to find all changed 'neath heaven's 
bright dome. 



32 PHOCION. 

Shall wake again ere sinks the flame 
Of day, and dying as it came, • 

So softly sink to rest. 
And, as his last pale beams are shed. 
Ask the night watchers where is fled 

The glory of the west — 
The fading crystal splendors that now lie cold and 
dead! 

But they shall rise again ere morn, 
Although all cloudy and forlorn 

The noontide's blaze appears — 
And radiant hope again shall bring 
To hearts grown cold, a glorious spring 

To dwell through endless years, 
And make an end of toil and suffering ! 

The spendors of the days that pass 
Fade quickly as the flowers, alas ! 

That die and are forgot : 
They blossom in the glorious day, 
In summer make a transient stay. 

Then, none may mark the spot 
Where, withered, they lie dead — our hopes as dead as 
they. 

Phocion. 
Adown the golden summer air 

The trees their generous blossoms shed 
More radiantly bright and fair 

For the clear splendor overhead 
Illumining the tranquil main. 

The towering grove, the wildering stream, 
And in its gorgeous glow the plain 

Seems bright as in a fairy dream. 



PHOCION. 33 

Like wizard's spell, enchanting, 

The mind it holds in thrall 
Of wanderer, darkly haunting 
Ancestral castle-hall 
On some fair lake or ocean brightly gleaming 
(Whose inmates wrapt in sleep, for centuries lay 
dreaming) . 
Thus ever and anon 
Soundeth the sea's low moan: 
While the star of our destiny leadeth on and on. 

PSYRAS. 

And, in the calm and peaceful light 

Of treasured ages and of suns, 
The river, like a thread of white. 

In the far distance, gleaming runs 
To meet the sea, its precious freight 

It bears from inland — spices rare. 
And scent of orange blooms, that sate 

Our senses, fill the burdened air — 
And ever outward blowing. 

From island heights of bloom ; 
(Soft sounds are flowing, flowing, 
And echo as they come. 
Of the silvery waves as they dance to the measure 
Of the loaded weight of their golden treasure) ; 

And, ever and anon 

Soundeth the sea's low moan: 
While the star of our destiny leadeth on and on. 

TOTORAN. 

With the glow and heat of the summer-time 
Nature again feels her pulses thrill : 



34 PHOCION. 

Of her beauty she fashions an antique rhyme — 

A poem of valley, dale and hill; 
A song of the linnet and larkspur's chant: 

The bee a sonnet turns to tune; 
And, to her lover who comes to haunt 

Her quiet glades, gives the heart of June. 
In glory and in beauty 

The meadows are arrayed, 
Wliere bloom the lovely flowers 

All in the somber shade; 
Through the woodland the notes of the wildbird are 

ringing 
To charm all our hearts by his magical singing; 
And, ever and anon 
Soundeth the sea's low moan: 

While the star of our destiny leadeth on and en. 

PSYRAS. 

Far away in some isle of the deep blue sea, 

Whose race is as calm as its breezes free, 

Wliere never a fear shall rise to vex, 

Or toil or danger to deep perplex. 

Where never shall sound war's rude alarms, 

Or, pestilence stalk in hideous forms. 

And sickness and death shall flee away 

To colder climes and more dark than they— 

Wliose dusky warriors no more shall rise 

With shouts of battle to rend the skies — 

That pillows its head in the ocean foam. 

We shall rest in our harbor and cease to roamj 

Swiftly we glide o'er the ocean's breast 

To drop our anchor and sink to rest. 

Far from toil and danger and pain and thrall, 

In our home, a fairer land than all ! 



FHOCION. 35 

TOTORAN. 

In fairy music shall burst the trees, 

And songs of praise ring on the breeze, 

And never a note of discontent 

Shall rise from our lips with that music blent, 

And, as ever, in time's overflow 

Of joys unnumbered we onward go, 

To our favored land, to our ocean home. 

In light and laughter shall break the foam. 

And hope ride high on each bright wave-crest ; 

Soon we'll drop our anchor and sink to rest. 

Far from toil and danger and pain and thrall, 

In our home, a fairer land than all. 

Captain. 
Far away in some sun-kissed clime. 
Where the weather is ever summer-time, 
And nature is ever as fresh and gay 
As the heart of India and far Cathay, 
We shall bask in the shade of our orange-groves: 
So lightly the boat o'er the water moves. 
Ere the light of the glowing noontide flies. 
And its flame in the crimson sunset dies 
In reddening splendor across the west. 
We shall drop our anchor and softly rest 
Far from toil and danger and pain and thrall, 
In our home, a fairer land than all. 

PSYEAS. 

As calm as the swallow 

That pauses, then flies, 
So the bright sunlight dances, 

Glimmers and dies 



36 PHOCION. 

In the break of the foam and the plash of the wave, 
That rolls over many a mariner's grave. 

TOTORAN. 

As calm as the moonlight 

That lures the day on, 
So swiftly we hasten, 

We glide and are gone 
To the realms of achievement ; we pause not nor rest ; 
While low sinks the sun in the glowing west. 

(A carrier-pigeon alights upon the vessel, and 
Phocion unloosens the message fastened about its 
neck.) 

Phocion. 
My life was formed for lonely contemplation; 

Far from men's busy haunts 
I hoped to live in my appointed station 

Exempt from jeers and taunts 
Of those who envied me my avocation ; 

Then did I quickly seize the helm 
Of state, the hope and savior of the nation : 

Though they that spurned me from the realm 
Would now recall, the pride and glory 

Of our lost realm now to restore. 
Though almost unbelievable the story, 

The land is torn by factions sore ; 
A carrier-pigeon brought the message 

How strife is waged from shore to shore; 
Me they would welcome as the presage 

Of peace and happiness once more. 
All Officers. 
With joy we hear the mystic token 

The bird hath brought ; and not in vain 



FHOCION. 37 

'Twas sent, for every word that's spoken 

Re-echoes in our hearts again. 
May Peace with fair white wings uplifted 

To bless our land perpetual reign: 
And happiness, deep and unbroken, 

Dwell from mountain-coast to plain. 

Phocion. 

Now speed the winds, and may our sails unfurled 

fc)wift waft us onward to the unknown world; 

Let the fair breeze, upspringing, bear us on, 

And stars shine splendid when the sun is gone; 

That we, though wretched mariners at sea, 

Tossed on the briny ocean though we be 

Some promise bright from heaven yet may crave, 

And e'en implore the elements to save. 

Let no foul wind uprise from frigid coast 

To make us feel more forlorn, wrecked and lost; 

To toss forever on the briny deep. 

Let stars resplendent shine, their vigils keep 

To light our progress o'er the watery way 

And with their lamps to speed the coming day. 

Phocion. {Describes a moonlight scene on the 

Mgean Sea.) . 

Softly the moonlight falls across the land, 

Light as the zephyr wind that wanders out 
• From haunts far inland, and from coasts of doubt, 
Where never step of man hath been, whose strand 
Is wrapped and curtained in a purple mist. 
Gorgeous as kingly robe, soft-hued as amethyst. 
Where never breath of winter chill is borne. 
But in whose silvery glades the summer long, 



38 PHOCION. 

Birds of bright plumage make perpetual song, 
To cheer the heart of him, perchance forlorn, 
Who wanders there, beneath those summer skies 
To listen night and day to those sweet melodies. 

There, wrapped in music of the water-fall, 
The air, and charm 'd silence of the place, 
He swift forgets the sorrows of his race; 
By nature now so is he held in thrall. 
Though he may wander back, grow worldly-wise, 
He'll ne'er forget that music or those skies. 

But cherish in his mind perpetual 

The memory of a pleasure that is gone 
Which like a bird of paradise hath flown; 

Steeped in the cup of a mad bacchanal 
He mournful sighs and wonders in his pain, 
If the blest vision will return again. 

In dreams of sadness then the whole night through, 

His spirit wanders to the silent dell 

Whose voice is mystery, but whose tones once fell. 
Upon his spirit like a healing dew, 

No light or music dances in the stream 

And sadly, now, the silvery waters gleam. 

For man who loves not nature overmuch 

But loves himself the more, hath lost the power, 
That moves his spirit in the silent hour 

And keeps him with the universe in touch. 
Though stars and planets spread their mystic scroll 
In living light, still all unmoved his soul. 

He reads not in the stars his destiny; 

No high ambition stirs his life like flame; 



PHOCION. 39 

Unseen the exalted messenger who came 
Down to his soul, the glory of the skies ; 

Quenched is the pride and fervor of his youth, 
And warped by prejudice the light of truth. 

But nature for her lover hath a book 
Wiser than seer or scholar who of old 
From rustic reed or papyrus didst unfold 

Those truths the minds of saints and martyrs sliook, 
Till, in their souls, they felt they'd rather die 
Than yield of it the veriest atomy. 

But lo ! the moon her golden beams now throws 
Again o'er sea and land without a cloud 
To mar her coming, as though grown proud 

Of her night dominion, to overflow 

The earth with radiance like some wizard's wand 
That held a nation's destiny in its hand 

And then doth loose it on the silvery seas 
To turn to melody the rippling waves 
Whose music rises now above the graves 

Of hopes we left behind, steeping the trees 

On the far bank with splendors yet more bright 
For all the golden glory of the night ! 

Our home is not on thee ! ocean vast, 
We seek a home beyond the stormy main, 
And, rising from our fallen states again. 

The pain and glory leaving of the past. 
Press forward in the hope of other days 
With stronger purpose 'cross thy watery ways. 



40 FHOCION. 

So nature is all music, and the tide 

That ebbs and Hows seemeth -a rippling song 
That cheers our souls with music the night long; 
A living hope and purpose strong doth bide 
Still in our-hearls, though restless and oppressed 
With wild unrest, to seek the realms of rest. 

TOTORAN. 

Now we approach the rocks which guard the strait: 
Safely through these, success opes wide her gate. 

PiiociON. {Apostrophe to the Bocks.) 
Ye bare-faced pinnacles ! ye lofty rocks ! 

How many ages have ye in this place 
Withstood the tempest and the whirlwind's shocks, 

Poised in mid-air above your steadfast base? 
Your summits clasped with snow, we scarce can see, 

Stretched in interminable length into 
The highest heaven serene, and yet feel we 

Beside your state we are as morning dew, 

Dissolving on the grass as the sun shines through ! 
Ye aged rocks, with crag jutting to crag, 

Of dangerous, dizzy height, what mighty hand 

Didst touch ye into life, at whose command 
Were ye upreared? What god did drag 

His sceptre over you, and forth upsprung 

A mountain of huge rock in thin air hung? 
Ye mountain rocks, who were your contemporaries? 

These groves of cedar, the spruce-tree and the oak? 
Held ye communion with their nymphs and fairies 

Here in the still wood ere the first dawn woke. 

And from their young-twigged limbs bird-musie 
broke ? 
No, ye are older than this forestage ; 

Your only childish mate was the round earth ; 



PHOCION. 41 

Your sustenance the, as now, invisible air; 
The heavens stretched above you alone could gauge 

Your summit's height, were present at your birth^ 

When ye first stood treeless, chill and snowy-bare^ 

Upon your broad-based, rotund mountain-stair! 
Even in the day when there was no time — 

Only existence for sun and star; 
No beast, no bird, no fish in the ocean-slime; 

No, herb, no plant, nor any creeping flower; 
No breath of active, warm expanding life 

Descending in the soft-shed vernal shower; 

Even then you touched heaven's elemental tower, 
And watched unscathed the winds and waves at 

strife ! 
How many men have come and passed away 

For your great eyes there to look down upon! 
Changeless ye are, and calmly ye survey 

The present race until it too is gone ! 
Now will you lord it over us, now make us feel 

Our fortunes are as fickle as the wind? 
That dark adversity our souls will steal 

From happier chance that fain would lurk behind f 
And will your frowns the untried ocean-waste 

People with phantom terrors as we ride? 
Shall we proceed with all unseemly haste 

Towards the place where no good doth abide — . 
The home of desolation and the wail 
Of wife and child that wait us o'er the way? 
have you left us for the bitter waves 

To sport with, for our hearts are sick and sore? 
Shall we make our last mansion and our graves 

With whales and fishes on the salt-sea shore? 
Or do you lift your hands up there to bless. 



42 PHOCION. 

And bring relief from this dire restlessness ? 
O may our helm and rudder both avail 
To guide us to the portals of the day ! 
O lead us by your tranquilizing light 
Unto fair day through this untimely night! 
{They pass the Bocks.) 
Phocion. 
Now comrades all, all danger past, 

Let us the passing hours employ, 
Improve the moments while they last, 

And give a zest to present joy; 
Now let the Poet with his sacred fire, 
The muse invoke, and sound the tuneful lyre. 

Poet. 
"With your permission. King, I would present 

For your delight, an improvised play; 
'Twill cheer, perhaps, our tedious banishment — 

Beguile the time upon our weary way. 
Phocion. 
The play! Let there be no end to joy; 
To serve the present hour, their talents all employ. 

[Poet arranges to produce an impromptu play, en- 
titled, "The Coronation of Dido," the sailors re- 
citing the leading parts. Meanwhile, a strong breeze 
increases the m,otion of the boat, and there is the ap- 
pearance of an approaching tempest.] 

THE CORONATION OF DIDO. 
Prologue — Chorus. 
Ho ! See the maskers slipping by ; 

All gaily dressed they blithely come; 
Crowned is King Mirth and Jollity, 

Nor are the noisy revelers dumb. , 



FHOCION. 43 

With mirth, with laughter rippling light 

Now they the sportive measure run ; 
The sager spirits do not slight 

The mystic dance, but join the fun. 

All grief and bale they fling away, 

And wheel and turn in festive sort. 
For all are glad and free to-day. 

When warmed with wine and generous sport; 

And see both old and young advance, 

And no one in the measure halts: 
No trouble mars the mystic dance: 

The prude in candor picks no faults. 

See how yon soldier stout and bold, 

With wizened features old and grey. 
Forgets a moment he is old. 

So easily he trips away; 

And that sea-captain as he leads 

A princess of an ancient race : 
In sooth, he better far succeeds 

That you or I would in his place ! 
Dido. 
Three days across the stormy main, 

Our army squadrons swept the seas. 
And blood was strewn upon the plain, 

And wails were borne upon the breeze 
Of cities overthrown, the sight 
Of warring factions plunged in flight ! — 

[The skies grow darker and the tempest increases. 
Part of the crew desire the play discontinued, hut 
Phocion endeavors to calm their fears. After a hur- 



44 PHOCION. 

ried consultation of crew and officers, they decide ta 
listen to the conclusion.] 

Spy. 
The skies grow dark, 
And threaten destruction to our fragile bark. 

A Sailor. 
Would I were in my own, my native land : 
Then never would I leave that blissful strand t 

King. 
The play! the play! 
Let all keep light hearts to-day ! 

(They continue the play.) 
Dido. 
Three days before a wintery gale 

Our sailors rowed, till "Land at last!" 
They said, ' ' We will no longer sail : ' ' 
Then, speedily, an anchor cast, 

"Behold a land of fair delight !" 

The Tyrians cried with hearts of cheer; 

"Wliat golden fields rise on our sight; 
There is no dearth of plenty here ! ' ' 

And: "See the walls of Carthage rise! 

Here will we make our ocean-home ; 
Could Sichaeus see with living eyes. 

His spirit would no longer roam." 

"Before our sight a gorgeous plain: 
Wliat myriad features crowd our day! 

As from the distant mountain-chain 
The morning-splendors roll away!" 



FHOCION. 45 

Officer. 
To Dido, queen, the heavens lent 
Their light to cheer our banishment. 
For weary days we roamed the main 
Where tempests blew and beat in vain ; 
Yet all in vain the muttering host — 
Winds wilder blew, we felt all lost; 
Seemed all in vain our prayers to rise : 
No wings bore upward to the skies — 
And all in vain our tears to move 
The sovereign ears of mighty Jove. 
Relinquished hope no promise brought : 
Forlorn we mourned our cheerless lot : 
Then Boreas' breezes ceased to blow, 
And all was peace and calm below ; 
Calmed was the storm by fate's decree, 
And silence wrapped the slumbering sea. 
Great Jove in pity then restores us 
And plenteous blessings scatters o'er us. * ■ 
Soon we behold 'neath sunny skies 
A splendid city fair arise, . 
Such acres doth the ox's hide 
Cover, that kingdoms far and wide 
It far outshone across the foam — 
Old ocean by which we are come ; 
No wars to vex, with purchase peace, 
All strife and conflict bidding cease — 
No cares to grieve, fears to annoy — 
This day we give to sacred joy 

WTien Carthage rises fair to rival Tyre and Troy — 
{The skies grotv darker, and a hurricane lashes the 
sea into fury. The moon appears covered by a thin 
veil as of blood.) 



46 PHOCION. 

Phocion. 
Give o'er the play, 
And let the Pilot watch well the way. 

Officer. 
Before us dashes a hurricane wind, 
And the thick wave rises dark behind. 

A Sailor. 
How angry is natui;e'§ mood! 
See the black waves rise. 
Plunging up to the skies, 
Wliere the moon is turned into blood! 

Another Sailor. 

How the vessel rocks and reels 
Like a drunken sailor's dream. 
And mine eyes grow dim 
As I stand on the rim 
Of the ship, and my heart no longer feels 
Being lost in the sullen stream. 

(Ashes hegin to fall around the vessel.) 

Third Sailor. 

Now the skies grow black, a fearful wrack 

Of the fate that lurks behind. 
And an ashen sleet rains down at my feet 

Through the sails that are tossed^ by the wind. 

(Phocion, Captain and Officers retii'e to the 
cahin, where they eat and drink to heguile the time^ 
and to render them insensible of danger,) 

Sailor (Above). 
The King and officers, horrid woe, 
Are eating meat and drinking wine below. 



PHOCION. 47 

Another Sailor. (Who has just returned from 
the cabin.) 

could the sight my eyes believe. 

Here in the midst of our distress, 
The crew their miseries to relieve, 

Are feasting off the sailors' mess. 

Third Sailor. 
A sudden fever fills my blood. 

For while my prayers to heaven are fleeting, 
The Captain and his crew below 

Are in the cabin eating, 

Our horrid fate completing. 

Fourth Sailor. 
Now the stars in mad commotion 
Dart above, beyond an ocean 

Of the ether 's crests. 

And the four winds' nests. 

Now an hundred fateful scourges 
Chase the world's wild mirth to dirges: 

Dirges for the glad day 

That hath passed away. 

Of this fateful day of warning, 
Far beyond the reach of scorning, 

Men shall say, 'twas told us true 

What we should do. 

But the day not then was breaking 
That now us is overtaking: 

It hath come, now we can spell 

Out its warning well. 



48 PHOCION. 

Hark! The spheres to soul-entraneiug 
Music in mad raptures dancing, 

Say in thunder-tones to earth, 

'Tis the last of mirth. 

But the weakest, still unheeding, 
And the strongest them outspeeding. 

Fill the day and fill the night 

With the blackest blight. 

They are drinking, and the clinking 
Of their glasses, and the blinking 

Of their horrid, horrid eyes, 

And their maudlin cries 

Make the men of faith to wonder 

Fools should laugh, when wise men ponder, 

Or the light of mirth should lie 

In the cold bleared eye. 

(Officers return to the deck.) 
Captain. 

Even the heavens that are ministers 

Of justice have combined their sovereign powers 

To our destruction : dark the tempest lowers : 
Thus nature punishes man who errs ! 

How like a sword now angry blows the wind, 

To every element by fate resigned. 
What crime was ours that they should torture thust 

Our prayers ascend in vain: in vain our tears; 

We who the ridicule of all coming years 
Have ventured all at our life's fearful cost, 
The seamen loudly wail: "All's lost, all's lost!" 



PHOCION. 49 

The wind at morn that lightly moved our prow 
Seemeth a fiend to vex and torture now. 

A Sailor. 

Now the tempest is lowering, 

Our hopes downward burying, 
While fast-flying clouds grow portentious and black, 

As the waves rolling higher 

From each crest's bright spire 
In the distance we measure the vessel's track. 

TOTORAN. 

Seer, mighty man of magic, speak ! 
Can'st thou this vile enchantment break? 
If in thy magic book and wand 
Be any virtue, command 
The winds and waves and elements 
This boiling caldron deep that vents 
Its wrath in hideous meanings, say 
Can aught dispel our lunar day? 
Could 'st thou of hope but shed one ray, 
'Twere welcome, though but little worth; 
If power be thine, then show it forth. 
From many a court and tether borne 
By fate and heaven, rougher than 
The savage beast or savage man, 
Shall we find peace where all seems lost, 
Landing on some sun-kissed coast 
Where ncA'^er toil shall come again, 
And ne'er is felt the touch of pain, 
Basking for aye in verdant groves 
Whose shade the hamadryad loves 
Where nature hums a livelier tune 
Than colder climes, seems ever June; 



50 PHOCION. 

The land of peace the prophecy 
Hath shown, of great prosperity; 
Or, shall the waves untimely force 
Our ship from its projected course 
To barren realms and regions dark 
As Hades? Whither drifts our bark? 

Seer. 
My prophecies to you were given first, 
Totoran, to know more no man durst, 
The fates at no one 's call or bidding come, 
'Tis theirs to give or take, to save or strike with terror 
dumb! 

Totoran. 
life, art compassed in so small a chain — 
And life so often filled with grief and pain — 

grave, that swallowest all our warriors slain! 
Must I, the second of our warrior band, 

Next only to our chieftain in command. 
Relinquish all, is hope, ambition lost ? 
Must dark destruction bury all our host. 
Pressing us downward in the Stygian night. 
Leaving for hope no ray to cheer, no bow of promise 
bright ? 

Seer. 

1 have said : 

Yet thou, alone, Totoran, are not accursed; 

The tempest now has almost reached its worst ; 
But darkness soon shall fall on Phocion's head. 

Totoran. 
In vain our prayers to heaven arise. 
Clouds darker lower, grow blacker skies, 



pnocioN. 



51 




'Seer, mighty man of magic, speak! 
Canst tliou this vile enchantment break?'' 



"Winds wilder blow, soon o'er our host 
Black waves shall roll, while wilder tossed 
Than e'er before, each life atones 
In its own doom fate's feaful cost. 
Our bones shall bleach on a desert shore 
Where the sea moaneth deep and evermore 
The ocean billows roll perpetual. 
And waves' thick sobs shall sound our funeral, 
Ringing our knells from shore to ocean 's caves 



52 PHOCION, 

Whose waters deep shall roll for aye above our graves. 
In vain to heaven we raise our suppliant hands : 
We die, we die, in alien lands ! 

PSYRAS. 

The vultures that go screaming 'round their prey 
Shall pause as they wing their onward way, 
To scent each carcass that lies bare, 
Exposed to the weather and salt-sea air; 
And as upon each they prey and feed, 
They shall lose for mortal flesh their greed 
From surfeit, and disgorge upon some coast 
Far away; all hope is lost; 
In vain to heaven we raise our suppliant hands : 
We die, we die, in alien lands! 

All. 
In vain to heaven, we raise our hands : 
We die, we die, in alien lands ! 

Officer. 

Hist ! what sound 's that in the waters dark ? 
Was't drowning sailor's voice, or seadog's fearful 
bark? 

Another Sailor. 
Arise, sailors, arise! 
Can we not find deliverance from fate's sorceries? 

{The vessel noiv enters the realm of Chaos, or 
Primeval Night, through ivhich it had oeen proph- 
esied it must pass before its final delivery. Voices 
of spirits in the darkness.) 

First Voice. 
The days grow bright as the smooth years turn, 



PHOCION. 53 

And the flower is scarce touched by the wandering 
bee; 
Ere noon, we may drink from a poisoned urn : 

Then let our libations be large and free; 
While the red rose purples its life away, 
And the white lily yields its breath to the day. 
Let us drink from the cup that is half divine 
Life's red wine! 

The days grow dark as the rough years turn, 

The flower is withered, the joy is past ; 
And our lips grow pale and our eyelids burn 

At the wrecks that on time 's dim vale are cast — 
A woe beyond the sphere 'd tomb ; 

A grief when the heart can not yield it room. 
Makes a false light where the sun doth not shine 
Of life 's red wine ! 

Second Voice. 
Hear ye the beautiful song — the song 

Of butterfly, bird and bee? 
All nature assists its notes to prolong, 

And makes it a memory 
Of earth and air, and the green land fair, 

And the rise and fall of the sea. 

Hear ye the wonderful song — the song 

The world-stars are singing to me? 
'Tis a portion of that to which all things belong, 

And of endless diversity: 
From the rising swell of a full-toned bell 
To its dying monotony. 

Third Voice. 
As the flash of a meteor 
Smit in mid-sky, 



54 PHOCION. 

So man is but born 

And lie lives but to die. 

He laughs in the morning, 
He smiles at the noon, 
Ere evening, he saith : 

"The shades lengthen soon." 

But the night cometh on 

And he falls on his face — 
Then know him shall no. one; 

None point to his place. 

As the drift and the stubble 

That's cast at my feet, 
So is the life-journey 

Of man, when complete; 

On the broad sea of life 

He floats here and there, 
His dark coast a doubt. 

His end a despair: 

Unknown, unlamented. 

He builds him a grave 
Where the water-fowl lispeth 

A barren sea-stave. 

Fourth Voice {Of a disembodied Spirit.) 

I faint on the banks of my lilies and roses : 

They were laid in rare sleep on the lips of the lawn ; 
Now my spirit 's wings flutter where daylight reposes, 
They flutter and fail as the day's cloud uncloses, 
And long for the fair, distant dews of the dawn. 



PHOCION. 55 

The sun newly risen shines clear through my prison; 
Through pearl and through coral his slant beams 
are sent — 
But his feet are too slow, and his breath is a poison. 
And he makes but a feint of amusing with noise in 
The which the mad stars and the mad moon are 
blent. 

They blend in mad dance all their tears and their 
laughter : 

They smile and the world's in her happiest June; 
They groan, and their groans are fast echoing after, 
Through circle and arch, from pillar to rafter, 

Proceed the notes of the doleful tune 

I faint on the banks of my lilies and roses 

The planets are talking of things so strange 
That my rapt ear waits to hear what the close is, 
Then drops to a languorous sleep, and deep dozes. 
Wrapt in the forms of a wondrous change ! 

They tell me a bright or a tear-stained story. 

Of thrones and sceptres and pearly seas 
Where men fight for gold, and swim for glory. 
Till their locks grown grey, and old and hoary 
Drop off to poison the innocent breeze. 

They say that where envy and scorn and malice, 

And heavy passion and bitter pain 
Fill all cups full, that the ghastly chalice 
Is brewed in the cot and stewed in the palace. 

And their lips shall wither its red drops stain. 



56 FHOCION. 

I faint on the banks of my lilies and roses, 

An upsp ringing breeze wakes the mid- Autumn 
lark ; 
A charm, an enchanter, a magic encloses 
My soul with a breath that is sweeter than roses — 
I linger too long 'twixt the light and the dark. 

Behold ! the fair sun in the fair dawn is burning, 
Bring pearls from the seashore, drag gems from the 
sand ; 
Draw ripely the sweets of ripe flowers past returning 
As gifts to Apollo while the god's feet are spurning 
The red-litten rests of his golden strand. 

He is come, a bright pilot, to waft me thither — 
He is come : I awake ; he is come : it is strange. 
I ask him not whence, I question not whither: 
'Tis the selfsame power that conveyed me hither 
Wrapt in the forms of a wondrous change. 

Here is strong wood for his bow and light wood for 
his quiver; 
Here are songs for his lips, he shall sing them once 
more. 
Will he linger a brief space, the bleak mountains 

shiver, 
And swiftly and glad glides the gathering river; 
In dreams I think I have been here before! 
Fifth Voice. 
Sleep and Death dwelt together from the year of the 
world's great morning: 
Together they dwelt, breathing the same air, the 
same light; 



PHOCION. 57 

One fair as the dawn, her bosom with rich pearls 
adorning : 
The other dark as the tomb and clothed in shades 
of night. 

Nemesis summons Fates, Furies, Destinies, etc. 

Voices of Fates. 

Through the depths of ether ranging 

Over every land and sea, 
We unchanged, though all is changing, 

Weave the web of destiny. 

Clotho. 

I weave the web of human fate. 

And as each scattered thread I bind, 
The mourner sits disconsolate 

While blessings shower down on mankind. 

Each separate human destiny 

I hold within my little hand : 
By various arts each one to try — 

With grief or joy at my command. 

Each little soul to toss and vex, 

Filled with the brood of bitter care: 
The statesman's mind to deep perplex 

With systems vast — and thin as air. 

The poet's, scholar's lore I give 

To man, and all to each assign — 
They but a moment breathe and live. 

Whilst I reign endless and divine. 



58 PHOCION. 

Lachesis. 
To me it is assigned to mould ■ 

Each part that forms the mystic whole, 
The world's wide history to unfold 

Within each living human soul! 

To animate the hero's breast 

With strong resolve his part to play ; 

Lover to seek with vague unrest 
Love's image in a form of clay. 

To all of one great family, 

To each and all 'tis mine to give 
His various shape and destiny, 

That each within his sphere may live. 

To aim the sober shaft of Truth. 

Arm Justice with a lifted sword, 
And kindle in the pulse of youth 

The nobleness of deed and word. 

Atropos. 
I hold aloft the fatal shears 

Which, swift descending, cut life's thread: 
I rule the seasons and the years. 

And guard the living and the dead. 

For me nor prayers nor tears avail 
To change th' unalterable decrees: 

The proudest M^arrior waxes pale 

When I draw nigh, and turns and flees. 

Tremble, ye men of fallen earth: 

Quake, mountains, when my voice ye hear; 



FHOCION. 59 

For ye and all of stellar birth 
But bide the time when I appear. 

Expectant, dread, the sons of men 

Await the hour of parting breath, 
Fearing the final summons when 

I call them to the realms of death. 

Chorus of Parc^^i:. 

Weave we life's mystic web to-day; 

The threads 'mid wild discord are lost : 
Some ghostly mariners drift this way, 

By fears perplexed, and tempest-tossed. 
Alecto. 
To regions of the dead and dark 

'Tis ours to bear the souls of men, 
When perished is life's vital spark 

Ne'er to be revived again! 

Megaera. 
Like shadows all ye sens cf earth 

Breathe for a day, then quickly fled: 
Ere ye behold your glorious birth, 

Your life is gone, your light is dead, 

TiSIPHONE. 

Lives aught of earthly frame or dust 
That can survive the closing tomb? — 

The lives of men our sacred trust ; 
Nature restore to nature's Avomb. 

Chorus of Eumenides. 
We guard the mystic portal 

'Cross the dark Lethean streams, 
And pilot man immortal 

Through a wilderness of dreams. 



60 FHOCION. 

First Destiny. 
From the spring and the rill' 

Of the hills and the mountains : 
He drinks to his fill 

Who takes from my fountains. 
Second Destiny. 
From caverns and rocks, 
Cave, desert and den, 
Far from earth's rude shocks, 
I will lead him again. 

Third Destiny. 
He shall quaff from the springs of the hills and the 

mountains, 
That flow from my rills and that gush from my foun- 
tains. 

Chorus op Destinies. 
We shape all human destinies. 

We rule through countless years. 
And all in vain man's tears and sighs, 

His sighs and prayers and tears. 
Our quenchless thirst for lives to slake: 
Our strong, unyielding purpose shake. 

(Nemesis summons the Spirits of Hercules, Pro- 
metheus and Athena, illustrating the forces of 
Strength, Motion or Activity and Thought in the 
progress of the world.) 

Nemesis. 
Three Sovereign Spirits from the abyss I call 
For Strength, Action, Thought, most renowned of all ; 
First I summon from his Elysian abode 
He who to heaven on the whirlwind rode 
In strength, next to a god, himself almost a god. 



PHOCION. 61 

Hercules. 
First of created things came primal Force 
Which winged the heavenly bodies in their course ; 
Next primal law in straighter circuits bound 
In concentric rings the planets whirl around, 
Until at last the complex systems stand 
The mighty work of the Creator's hand. 

Nemesis. 
The second form I summon to appear 
Is he who for man drew fire from the heavenly 
sphere. 

Prometheus. 
When earth arose from chaos fresh and warm 
Nature did first the plastic atoms form 
In compact union ; from year to year 
To full perfection grew the rounded sphere; 
By motion the starry planets come and go, 
By motion the tides alternate ebb and flow, 
Till nature grew to finish what she began, 
Through various stages ending all with Man; 
His last best gift I gave him light and heat, 
And little left his happiness to complete; 
Yet he, O race accursed, tlie latest born 
Of time has turned my choicest gift to scorn; 
Lured by ambition and the love of fame 
To forge a fire to counterfeit my flame, 
That thou with peace an alien to they breast, 
Should roam the world in vain in quest of rest; 
Yet think 'st thou thus all perils to escape? 
Or all the ills which prey in human sha])e? 
Now see o'er the world men fighting fire with fire, 
Quenching heaven 's radiance with earth 's base desire. 



62 PHOCION. 

Nemesis. 

Last she for wisdom and the arts renowned 
Wliose praise the muses and all men resound. 

Athena. 
I have swayed through countless ages 

The wide empire of the mind ; 
Force and Strength by Thought subduing 

I have brought to aid mankind, 
"Wisdom of the ancient sages, 

Blessings of the fruitful years, 
For my left hand rules the seasons, 

And my right supports the spheres. 

Nemesis. 
Over the wide world you have roamed and nothing 

gained ; 
Renounce ambition, only thus can peace and pardon 

be obtained. 

Phocion. 
Pride, Avarice, Greed, X renounce them all, 
And only seek to save those on whom the bolts of 
wrath may fall. 

(Phocion causes his companions to take the oath 
of absolution. Nemesis noiu transfers the ship again 
to the ocean where the storm is still raging. 

(Phocion, Impressed hy the grandeur of the ob- 
jects about him, moralizes upon Life, Death and Im- 
mortality.) 

Why fear we to die. 

To leave this life of mortal breath, 

And take our places in the halls of death, 



PHOCION. 63 

To pierce the riven sky, 

And dwell serene in unapproached majesty; 

Gathered with the sceptred throng 

By the tide of the centuries borne along 

And the flood of unnumbered years ? 

From doubts and hopes and fears 

A gorgeous web is wove, 
And through the perilous flood appears 

The arm of sovereign Jove. 

Why fear we to die? 

Behold ! the serene sky, 
The earth, the air shall vanish like a scroll ; 

When comes the last great day 

Each, all shall pass away. 
And darkness cover earth from pole to pole! 

There, gathered in one spot 

They perish and are not. 
They die, no saving hand salvation brings; 
Creation groans and sighs. 

And nature's thousand eyes 
Weep at the general wreck of earthly things! 

Why fear we to die ? 

Lo ! all mortality 
Shares in the general desolation brought. 

When nature's fires too cold 

To warm the earth, grown old. 
Shall perish in the ravage they have wrought, 
Is life confined within such ample round 
We dread the warning sound 

Which calls us from our earthly haunts away t 
Were life not filled with pain and grievous woe 
Then we might fear to go ; 



64 PHOCION. 

In midst of pleasure and of mirth, 

Among the jovial crowd, 
The mind clings tenderly to earth, 
Fearful the pall and shroud. 
At home the dreadful thought 
Of death no pleasure brought; 
And e'en the warrior bold, 
Whom glory doth enfold, 
Clings eagerly to life and fears the grave 
In battle lifts his voice for some kind hand to save. 
But unto us, tossed in the briny deep, 
Death were a blissful sleep, 
And the dark death angel 
Were a bright evangel, 
Calling from pain and misery sore 
To rest evermore ! 

Though cold in death our bodies lie, 

It can not chill the soul: 
To live again is not to die, 
And death is not the goal 

We strive for, but a home above, 

And higher realms our strength shall prove. 

To die is but to live 

In wider kingdoms than our birth; 
Forever they that strive 

Have larger conquests than this earth ; 
Who rules his spirit strong subdues 
The powers the stellar worlds infuse. 

And he who rules below 
And shapes for man the perfect law, 



PHOCION. 65 

His wisdom farther yet shall go 
To mend creation's tiaw: 

In wider realms than time and space 
His power shall bless a kindred race. 

And when in some coming age of time 

When the vast earth is stirred with strife : 

We to more glorious heights shall climb 
And reach a higher life in life 

When the world's cycle is complete 
And earth shall melt with fervent heat. 

Born of a more heroic mould 
Than common mortals be, 
To us creation doth unfold 

Its manifold destiny: i 

In happier climes, mid radiant spheres 
To rule and reign through endless years. 
{Apostrophe to the Ocean.) 
Ocean, gray monarch of the world of time, 

Beneath thy breast the fires of centuries sleeping, 
Ruler of every country, every clime, 

Thy constant course for ages calmly keeping; 
Though lava-beds of fire 

Dart higher and ever higher ■ 

Within earth's livid heart, 
Still all unmoved thou art: 
Still rollest on in matchless majesty : 
An image we of Time, thou of Eternity! 

Though no prow cleave thy cheerless waste 

And no ship plough thy watery way, 
Thou art the same, and onward haste, 

Thro' regions of the night and day; 



66 PHOCION. 

Thro' times and tides, and heedest not 

The cry of man who sinks beneath 
Thy wave that rises dark to blot 

Him in thy breast, to sink to endless death ! 

Implacable, insatiate. 

Spirit of wind and cloud, 

Thou mockest at his weakling state , 

And foldest in thy shroud, 

To lie in dark obscurity, 

To all futurity. 
Clothing in mantle dim the husks of his mortality ! 

Ocean, if calm or rough thy billows roll, 

If high as Alpine heights thy waves ascend, 
Or sink to nether depths the human soul, 
And thus to life dost bring a dreary end — 
If power be given thee, or force 
The unchained elements to bind — 
The regions of the dumb and blind: 
Still not immortal mind — 
Tho' black waves plunge below, 
Our bodies overllirow, 
Our souls in their unseen course 
Shall rise serene above space - and time. 
And from an earthly grave ascend to heaven's heights 
sublime ! 

PsYRAS — Addressing the Ocean. 
Gray old ocean, 
That with billowy motion 
Shroudest all our hopes upon thy foam: 
Art more unkind 
Than wintry wind. 
Condemning us to wander and to roam! 



PHOCION. 67 

Calm old ocean 

That with rippling motion 
At mom so gaily wafted 'cross the foam, 

Thou art more unkind 

Than wintry wind 
Condemning thus to wander and to roam. 

Strong old ocean, 

That with restless motion, 
Buriest all our hopes upon thy breast: 

Never below 

Is surcease of woe, 
But we must wander sick, oppressed, distressed 

A Satlor. {singing.) 

Comrades and brothers all 

That soon beneath the pall 
Of death will lie, your spirits no longer soar ; 

But are depressed quite 

In melancholy night. 
Far from the land that we shall see no more. 

Comrades of our command, 

All ye of Phocion's band. 
The light winds kiss the waves, the waves the shore; 

Yet waft they no perfume 

From the gardens in their bloom 
Of our loved land that we shall see no more. 

Far from our ocean home 

Condemned for aye to roam 
The wave of light that kisses that glad shore 

Presages no return 

To the heather-blooming bourne 
Of our loved land that we shall see no more. 



68 PHOGION. 

All. 
No more, no more, no more! > 
Of our loved land that we shall see no more ! 

(A shout hursts from helow, King falls.) 

A Sailor. 

He dies, he dies! 

See the thick foam rise 

To his lips where he lies, 

And a watery scum to his eyes ! 

PSYRAS. 

Mighty Potentate, 

Once so proud and great. 
Ruler of earth, how art thou fallen low! 

In whose glowing face 

Once shown angel-grace: 
With grief we mark fate's swift-descending blow! 

And should the storm 

Work weal or harm 
To us, thou of our life art still a part : 

Guiding by love 

In heaven above 
When outward beats thy restless, panting heart. 

Green waves by thy shroud 

A summer cloud 
Thy canopy, and ocean be thy bed ; 

And thy dirge the note 

Of the creaking boat, 
As we bewail our mighty Chieftain dead ! 

{King Recovers.) 



PHOCION. 69 

Draw round me once again, while I relate 

How by stratagem I seized my brother's realm, 

And, arming all the bulwarks of the state, 
I ruled with wild ambition at the helm. 

This is the cause that vexing sea and land 

Impelled by fate the wave and tempest rose. 

And driven far by heaven's avenging hand 
We wrestled with an ocean-host of foes. 

Soon will the remorseless fates my sin requite 
How quickly can the gods withdraw the breath 

They have given when lost in realms of night 
My soul Shall plunge and sink to endless death. 

And, yet, no sooner, desire satisfied. 

Than I, by some strange fury repossessed, 

Fitted a ship to brave the ocean wide. 
And started hither on a barren quest, 

You bearing company (and most am I 

Distressed that grief should come to you through 
me: 
Were I alone the sufferer, I should try 

To bear my burden with a spirit free). 

Awhile the wind set fairly in our sail. 

Our quest to prosper seemed : our hearts were glad ; 
Then darkness came, and through a misty gale 
We drave to death with hopeless hearts and sad. 
{King falls. Suddenly the darkness disappears. 
King stirs.) 

A Sailor. 
Soft! — he stirs! 
And speak ye in a whisper, lest he die ! 



70 PHOCION. 

To silence sinks the sea: the tide ebbs out: 
And softly as to a winged zephyr whirrs 

Its silvery pinions downward, lo, on high 
A space of crystal blue ! — ring out, wild shout 
And swift proclaim the message : we are free ! 

Ring out to rocks and mountains, ne 'er be still ! 
The storm doth no more vex, a blessed calm 
Falls on our spirits like a healing balm. 

Let every plain and hill. 
Let mountains ring, and let not earth be dumb — 
Let all proclaim the message : we are come, 
Not suddenly — but as through foam-flakes white 
Of fleecy clouds struggles the pale sunlight, 
Then in a flame of splendor bursts more bright. 
For pent-lip heavens — so shines to-day 
Our star of hope with clear and serene ray. 

{The fates have been appeased, and with joy fhe 
sailors behold their own land. King recovers, and all 
join in a pean of joy.) 

All. 

And let our voices heavenward ring 

For all the blessings than this day doth bring. 

A Sailor. 

"What Kingdom 's this that bursts upon my sight ? 

Another Sailor. 

'Tis the selfsame that we left yesternight. 

Third Sailor. 

Upon my soul, we will no farther go : 
'Tis the same soil our feet trod years ago. 



PHOCION. 71 

All. 
Now let our voices heavenward ring 
For all the blessings that this day doth bring. 

Fourth Sailor. 
We have gone but in a circle 'round, 
And now, at last, our own loved land have found. 
Sailors (Singing.) 
Once again, our voices ringing 
In glad raptures upward flinging 
Prayer and praises to the gods of heaven that guided 
us thus far. 
Hail the land of youth and gladness; 
Now shall be an end to sadness: 
Ere our lives shall end in madness, 
We will anchor in that bar. 

Here, at last, our quest is ended: 
Hither have our worn steps tended, 
Thro' the rocks and thro' the billows: through a sea 

of wrath and foam ; 
Soon the fires will be relighted 
On our hearts the troths replighted 
And all hearts will be united 

In the joy of reaching home. 

Blooms the meadow, waves the heather, 
Pleasant in the summer weather 
Glow the sunlit isles of peace beneath the morning 

sun's bright rays; 
Ruby lips will be to greet us. 
Willing feet will come to meet us. 
Loving hearts will rise to beat us 

Time to peans of glad praise ! 



72 PHOCION. 

{They land. — The messenger of Cyrus, who had 
been watching for the arrival of the ship, goes 
aboard.) 

Messenger. 
"With joy we greet the soldiers of our realm; 

Know thou, Phoeion, that thy brother lives: 
He lives and rules with justice at the helm: 

Thee welcome again into his kingdom gives. 

The murderous hands that plotted for his life 
Failed of their purpose, for in his dark cave 

A faithful subject severed with a knife 

The withes that bound him and releasement gave. 

Once freed, quickly his kingdom he repossessed, 
His subjects aiding — save a faithless few — 

But sad misgivings, still, his soul oppressed: 
His generous heart, even then was turned to youl 

When you have safely landed he will send 
"Welcome to you and all your sea-tossed host. 

And we would hear your trials at an end, 

"What toils you passed through since you left this 

coast. 
Phocion is overcome with emotion by lifis brother's 

generosity, but relates the story of his adventure, 

after which all go ashore.) 

Phocion. 

A brother's love no more will I distrust 

Till earth return unto its kindred dust. 

[The End.] 



II.— Poems on Various 
Occasions. 

1903. 



Changeless. 

If ever Old Age take delight in surveying 

The haunts of the Youth and the home of the Child, 
Then, surely he'll pause where his young footsteps 
straying 

Have been on the banks of the brooklet beguiled ; 
And there to his view the clear waters are playing 

As limpid, as cheerful, as all undefiled — 
Where the sunbeams glance sparkling or the shadows 
lie darkling, 

E'en the fish are as careless, as frisky and wild.' 

Perhaps he may mark where the wildbird is winging 

Its flight o'er the meadow when springtime is near, 
Or list to the sonnet the sparrow is singing. 

With its cheery wee twitter lijie the clarion clear, 
But most the wild notes of the whippoorwill ringing 

Recall the memories that life holds most dear, 
And oft as he ponders its song he still wonders 

If 'tis the same song once his heart leapt to hear. 

But where are the friends who in life's first endeavor 

Once smiled on his path — are they gone with the 
stream ? 
Are they vanished away to be seen again never, 

Or lost in the depths where the dark waters gleam? 
Both constant and changeless is Nature forever, 

'Tis Man that seems born of a phantasy's dream, 
He is bound by a tie no mortal may sever 

From his tent-life on earth to his home, the su- 
preme. 



76 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Willoughby Lake. 

The storm-cloud stretched over Willoughby Lake 
And its swift-flying heralds are passing before; 
The crest of the billows are bristling to break 

As the little low waves wash the sand from the 
shore ; 
For abroad in the raven-black field of the night 
Are forming the glistening columns of snow; 
There the minions of nature lie silent and white 
Awaiting the call that shall bid them to go. 

And never one falters, each dauntlessly stands 
• The cold of the clouds in its crystalline hands ; 
Now their crests are uplifted, their bayonet* 

gleam, 
And they dart down to earth in a thin silver 
stream. 

The first frosts of autumn left streaMngs of brown 
To scar the bright green on the meadow's bald 
brow, • 
Then the snow-flakes of winter came glimmering 
down, 
And a starry-white mantle rests over it now. 
They whirl round and round ere they fall to the 
ground. 
And in eddies afloat on the wings of the breeze 
They hasten to fill each hollow and hill. 
And burden the boughs of a million trees. 
And one is a willow that sits by the lake 
And watches each blossoming wave-crest break. 
And makes of the motions of earth and sea 
A wierd and marvelous melody. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 77 

Ah! Willoughby Lake! Willoughby Lake! 

Why angry your wave and dark is your stream ; 
Wliy rises your tide, while roughen and shake 

The billows across like a drunkard's dream? 
Ah ! cold was the weather and dreary the night 

When a maiden fair in her golden youth — 
Your wave closed over her tresses bright 

To atone for her love with woful ruth: 
Is this the reason, Willoughby Lake, 
Your stream is dark and your billows shake ? 



The Past. 

What though fierce passion's storm and flood 

'erwhelmed the souls of millions gone ! 
Wliat though this earth were drunk with blood 

That brought the present glory on! 
Can we believe it all in vain 

The strife of men and clash of war; 
That fields ran red with thousands slain 

Before the mighty conqueror? 
What in the present glorious 
Are the labors of the past to us ? 

Who'd weep o'er St. Bartholomew, 
Or long deplore a Nero 's wrongs ? 

Well did the living good and true 
Recieve an alien nation's songs; 

'Tis something in this life to live 
In bare remembrance of the past — 

'Twere better did those ages give 



78 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

One deep life lesson strong to last: 
Then in the present glorious 
The past is all in all to us. 

The Reverie. 

A Fragment. 
Wlien the drooping shadows of night are spread, 
And the gardens of nature their glories shed ; 
When a dull pale gleam of wandering light, 
Darts faint from the cloud-eclipsed orb of night, 
And the one lone star of the evening sky 
Rules with a lengthening rod on high; 
Then the mind that is freed from the world without 
Girds up the drapery of thought about, 
The portals of memory ope once more 
And Fancy paints all the days of yore ; 
The carols of joy and throbs of pain 
Awake to beat in the heart and brain. 
Time, with the furrowed and wrinkled brow, 
Where are*thy bright-hued laurels now? 
Where is thy guerdon of glory, a name 
To startle the earth like the scourge and flame — 
Thy sword and sceptre and kingly crown ? 
Are they all like my own airy dreams come downt 
Behold in thy name is the sceptic's boast 
That the human race on thy sea is lost; 
That life's deep longings, its hopes and fears 
Are closed by the coffin and quenched by the years j 
That man in a broad and endless stream 
Sinks slowly to slumber too deep to dream ; 
But before he is lost on that fathomless sea. 
Unknown, though we call it Eternity, 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 79 

To the rigidly righteous and truly good 

Come dreams formed by prayer and by solitude, 

Till the songs of a heavenly choir are heard, 

And the spirit so deeply yet falsely stirred 

By the sounds bids a last adieu to earth 

To dwell in the light of a new life 's birth — 

But ere the wave of his parting breath 

Is congealed by the swift approach of death 

The lingering light no pen can trace 

In lines of beauty adorns his face, 

And the smiles of victorious transport show 

The enraptured soul which bade them glow. 



The Christian Graces. 

He that reaps of noblest deeds, 

He it is lies nearest heaven ; 
Broken faiths and formless creeds 

Are by wave and windstorm driven; 
Only unto golden seeds 

Is the golden fruitage given: 
Though earth claim yet heaven gives 
All the honors of our lives. 

Words are many, works are few, 

Faiths are rife but truth is rare ; 
When the deeds that we shall do 

Fall before the light of prayer, 
Are they noble, are they true, 

Will they vanish into air ? 
Shall it then to us be said, 

"Faith is here but truth is fled?" 



80 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Charity, of mortal mould, 

Owneth half from heaven descending; 
Grace without its warmth is cold. 

Mercy's glories are unending; 
Who hath it shall ne 'er grow old ; 

Who hath not yet hath by lending : 
It shall come to him unasked 
Robed in clouds, by darkness masked. 



Sleep, 

Earth's shadows fly away; 
Pale stars succeed the day, 
While fleet and fair as they, 

Swift the hours leap. 
Day longs yet can not stay. 
Dusk speeds a lingering ray. 
Now with the twilight gray 

Comes dark-lidded sleep. 

Flower of the crocus cup 
Bowers all its fragrance up. 
Nods as it goes to sup 

God's nectars deep. 
Bloom of the yellow rose 
And the white lily blows 
Drop to a slumbrous doze 

Of lidded sleep. 

Hark! the night-bird shall soon 
Mark not the rising moon. 
Dark is the realm of tune. 
Save low and deep 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 81 

Mutters the thunder tone, 
Rumbles the wind's last moan, 
From all fair lands is blown 
Soft-lidded sleep. 

Bound by the magic spell, 
Drowned in its dying swell 
Sounds loud the echoing bell 

Of wandering sheep. 
Forth from their rocky den 
Stalk beasts and rougher men, 
They shall not wake again 

Who sleep their sleep. 

Man, immortality 

Can all provide for thee ; 

Plan, no rash mutiny, 

Thee all things keep ; 
Take now thy wonted rest; 
Break sweet bread repossessed — 
Lake of the calmly blest 

Deep-lidded sleep. 



Hymn of Nature, 

Come, it is the early mom. 

And the sun just peeping out 
Makes the heavens all about 

Gleam with colors newly born. 

Watch the dewdrops on the grass 
Sparkle in their million cells, 
Glow like tiny silver bells, 

Or like beaded drops of glass. 



82 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Each a ray of color holds 
In its pent-up prison close, 
Long lost, latent colors those 

Which the rising sun unfolds. 

Some are clothed in emerald green, 
Red are some, and some are blue ; 
Others show a neutral hue 

As in rainbow-mixtures seen. 

Yet howe'er they gleam and glint — 
Glide like little airy elves. 
They are colorless themselves, 

Bear the stamp of one great mint. 

Each one says : " I 'm from the sun, 
He's the author of my birth; 
He it is rules this round earth, 

Does through me what I have done. 

"All my life's a life of change, 

I am never motionless ; 

All my secrets who can guess — 
All the breadth of fields I range? 

''For the sun with iron lock 

Holds my history well and fast — 
Holds the history of my past 

In his molten ore and rock. 

"Nothing of myself I claim, 

'Tis the sun that works through me 
All creation's mystery, 

All the wonders of my name. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 83 

"I am nothing less than light, 

Greatest power 'neath that of heaven; 
Greatest blessing ever given : 

Scattering first primeval night ! 

"Separate in prisms here 

I must be content to lie 

On the grass, or else to fly 
When the sun's warm rays appear. 

"And I come when he says, come, 
And I go when he says go ; " 
Where the fruitful harvests grow, 

Into regions dead and dumb 

"With the dearth of human life; 

Or to gladden with my breath 

All the crowded haunts of death, 
Or to close a nation's strife/' 

Learn a lesson, thou, soul, 

Press it down upon the heart, 

And by persevering art 
Gauge the part within the whole. 

Learn that God is that great whole 

Centered in universal love — 

Filling all the space above, 
Radiating through the soul. 

Learn this lesson then, who can, 

Lesson which the years to bring 

Wrought amid much suffering 
To the final good of man. 



84 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

A Vision of Fame. 

I thought one night as in a trance I stood 
Upon the summit of a lofty plain, 
Below me pressed a surging multitude 

Of earth's worn sons of toil with many stain 
Upon their glittering robes, which else were white 
Fresh bathed in fountains of the summer rain. 

And many paused, or glanced to left and right, 
Clasping their hands above them in the gloom, 
Dark with the terrors of terrestrial night 

In sable splendor many made their tomb 

In the green sod beneath their comrade's feet, 

Breathed their last sigh and sought a narrow home 

In the dust that gave them birth, but more replete 
With grandeur than the tomes of men which gold 
Hath wrought in tinsel elegy complete. 

Which are half lies — ^but as I looked, behold, 

So sad a sight I saw I turned away, 
Unable to bear the unearthly gleams unrolled 

Brighter than the utmost splendor of the day. 

But when I looked again I saw the day 
Had vanished, and a dark ethereal night 
O'erspread the fair landscape with a sable ray, 

From Pluto's dismal, gloomy realms of fright. 
Peopled by unknown beings, while desert gleams 
Shoot from some hidden orb, until the night 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 85 

Feels himself defrauded of all he deems 
His own, amid the darkling dreary waste. 
So dense the cloud of darkness that it seems 

The earth had lost her loveliness and faced 

The infinite; but flowers bloomed, although unseen 

Beside the living brooks and streams, and replaced 

In some degree the semblance of the green 
And gaudy mantle nature former wore ; 
And other flowers as fair as those that glean 

And garner fragrance from the crystal air, they bore 
Their own ethereal hues, the rose, the violet 
Greeted their morn with blushes as before 

Suffused the foxglove and the mignonette. 
And all the flowers of summer's fairest day, 
The tropic palm, orange and citron let 

Their blossoms ripen in the sultry ray, 

An hour's ephemeral existence led, 

Then died and withered ; but as I looked the way 

Had brighter grown, and deep and far mthdrawn 
In moonlike radiance on the summit's head, 
A faint light like a halcyon meteor shone. 

And spake a voice as though from out the dead : 

Fame is at the summit, he who goes 
Into the conflict not in armor clad. 

Weary at eve retires, his eyelids close 
To throw off care and drown the passing hour. 
And seeks to lose all feeling in the sad 



86 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Procession, he must toil, the flower 

Must bud and bloom, and now they reached the hill 

Where all at last must test their strength and power, 

Whereat a fearful strife arose, until 

The earth re-echoed with their groans, and blood 

Flowed freely down and tinged the gurgling rill. 

And many fell to earth, or in the flood 
Of waters dark and uninhabited 
Were borne, and ever from the cloud 

Upon the summit gleamed the light ; many fled, 
Tearing their robes and flinging down to earth, 
And pressed on in the conflict o'er the dead 

And wounded and felt no time for mirth; 
Some seized the garments which the rest let fall, 
And robbed the dead and dying, and left them dearth 

Of character ; but few helped the wounded, all 

Were partners in a sacrilegious band, 

And strived to live although his brother fall 

A prey to better motives, but conquest fanned 
By poisonous breezes, on my ears there came 

A voice amid the multitude like sand 

In mighty rushing motion: ''This is Fame!** 



I looked again and saw a mighty man, 
For he was so called by the multitude 
Of vulgar gazers in the hidden depths : 
For many called him great who had not yet 
Learned the meaning of true greatness. 
A shape of hideous deformity he was, 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 87 

And aged as by ten thousand wintry frosts; 

About his brow, entwined with golden braid 

The laurel glimmered interest with thorns 

That sent the life-blood gushing from his veins, 

And on his forehead I saw written Fool 

(And said I in my heart fool! fool! fool!) 

His eyes were banded with a scarlet wreath 

Which half depended down his bloodless face, 

As if to shut from out those sightless orbs 

All the fair universe, all save corroding care, 

And deathless misery than waked incessant pain, 

And in his withered and decrepit hand 

He held the sceptre of a kingless line 

And his feet were on the neck of his fellows as a yoke 

Pressing them downward, then suddenly. 

The heavens were rolled together like a scroll, 

And from his golden chariot in the clouds 

The angel came to call the quick and dead. 



The Tornado. 

(Written immediately after the Tornado at Mt. Ver- 
non, Ind., in April, 1888.) 
1. 
Know ye how the fierce tornado's breath 

Is blown upon the region of the plain — 
Twin brother of the lightning linked with death; 

But given a broader track and wider rein? 
Not by the artillery of heaven's length and breadth; 
Louder than the cannon 's brazen mouth 
Not by the lightning's flash, a vivid chain, 



88 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Is this destructive agent heralded. 

This had deprived the storm of half his dread. 

Scarcely a breeze or gust of air will deign 

To give us any warning, sign or hint 
Of all o'er which the storm-king holds restraint, 
And gamers in soft breezes from the south. 

II. 

never yet dawned there a Sabbath day 

In winter more prophetic of the spring ; 
And never seemed the town one-half so gay; 

How should it know the fate the night would bring, 
When balmy breezes rang a roundelay 

That wreathed the p'oisoned arrow and the sting t 
And so the morning wore away to night, 

When lo ! the sudden storm-cloud gathering 
In funnel shape, and glowing fiery bright 

Depictures in each face a blank dismay. 
To flee is vain, for even now the blight 

Is close upon them, grappling with iron hand 
The stoutest buildings, that quiver, reel and rock. 

And, tottering, fall as built upon the sand. 
The citizens! — they are here and there. — 
Some beams and timbers strike, which smite 
The life from out them ; by missiles in the air 
Others are felled; some inaccessible 
To all aid burn amid the wreck of hell ; 
A moment and 'tis past; next day the shroud, the 

pall; 
Heaped mounds of desolation cover all. 
And there was one whose hair had turned to white 
From the experience of that dark night. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 89 

The Terror King. 

I have stood in the lonely forest 

No star m the midnight sky, 
And listened with fear and wonder 

To the wolf and the jackal's cry. 

I've watched the fearful tornado 
Emerge from the storm-cloud black, 

Uprooting the trees of the forest 

And the dwellings of men in its track. 

I've viewed the dreadful volcano, 

With its lurid smoke and fire 
As the evening sky was painted 

Like a burning funeral pyre. 

I've watched the mountain avalanche 

With its burden of ice and snow 
Crash down on the sleeping village 

Serene in the plain below. 

I've heard the cataract rushing 
In its terrible power and might, 

And the roar of gun and cannon 
In the midst of the fearful fight ; 

And the erstwhile gentle river 

Gorged to a maddening stream, 
bweeping all else before it 

In the revel of power supreme. 

But the terrors of earth and heaven 

Were never meant for me, 
From the shafts of the lurid lightning 

To the earthquake on land or sea. 



90 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

They pale before that monster 

Who breathes with his poisonous breath, 
And the arm of the mightiest warior 

Is stilled in the grasp of death — 

Not the death that is swift and sudden, 
When the elements are at strife, 

Or that stalks in the brooding pestilence 
The warring foes of life; 

But the hushed and faltering footsteps 
Which echo a nameless dread, 

And the muffled world of voices 
As the whisper goes : ' ' He is dead. ' ' 



Hymn of the Fire Worshippers 

To THE Sun-God. 
{Some years ago the aiitJior began what ivas de- 
signed to he an epic relating to the Aztec race in 
America, in which the following lines were intended 
to form a song composed in honor of the principal 
deity of this people. Except a few lines of blank 
verse, this is all of the poem that was ever written.) 

Sun, thrice ruler of the sky ! 
Sublime and unapproachable, 
Divine in light ineffable, 
A thousand glories round thee bum: 
An hundred stars thy path attend, 
And bow to do thee reverence. 
And stars where worlds on worlds grow less 
And fade in far-off azure fields, 
Their pallid loveliness unveil. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS, 91 

Throb sharp and beat beneath thy glance 
And worship at thy blazing throne. 
Thou armor-bearer of the great 
High mighty Sovereign whose name 
Forever is unmentionable, 
Though uttered in the lightest breath. 
In softest whispered accents spoken, 
A thousand shivers shake the heart. 
And poisoned streams like lava dart 
Fire-like through turgid veins and cords 
To overwhelm with wreck and ruin. 
Thou Prince of Earth and Sea and Sky 
And powers of Darkness and of Light. 
High-born, exalted, resolute; 
The sum of earthly virtue blent 
With every divine attribute : 
Thy strength is as the strength of bulls, 
Thy courage surpasseth that of lions. 
In love thou dost excel the seven. 
Before the stars were thou didst reign: 
They of thy quenchless' beams partake, 
Yet thou hast not the less of strength 
Because of thy great bounteousness. 
When worlds on worlds unnumbered line 
The very pathway to thy courts ; 
And peopled earths to which our own 
Were but a speck in fruit, a fly 
In the air, an atom in a stone, 
Join in the acclimative praise. 
Shall we, thy humble suppliants flaunt 
Our pride against thy face, nor bow 
Before thy throne who are but dust, 



92 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Base elements of trodden clay, 

And lower than aught else save beasts, 

Sun, thrice ruler of the skies, 

To thee our orisons arise. 

When Ormazd set his image up, 

With skillful knife he reft his veins, 

And while the immortal blood flowed out, 

Trickling along the front of heaven, 

(Like seething torrents overflown 

That run like rivers to the sea) 

He cleft the crimson clouds in twain 

And bade them make a crown for thee ; 

He rolled the azure dome about 

To give thee room and breathing-space; 

Then changed he all those radiant spheres. 

(Stopping the life-giving vermeil tide) 

To brightest light and fiercest heat, 

White shining, one ethereal mass 

Of inextinguishable flame 

Which in high splendor sparkles yet. 

Still is our fear and wonderment. 

When storms and whirlwinds rack the face 

Of earth and fell the giant trees 

And level all the haunts of men. 

And beasts and men together crouch, 

Fearing the vengeance of thy hand. 

And fearing fly the dreadful scourge 

Thou hast in thy displeasure wrought. 

We know 'tis but thy breathing sides 

That labor with the pent-up wrath 

Sent justly to thy creatures here, 

AVhen sea and earth swell deep to break, 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 93 

And yawning chasms swallow up 

Earth's fruitage in one common grave, 

It is thy voice that shakes the world, 

And warns us of the time to come 

When not a vestige shall rema:in 

Of earth's great pride and pomp and power. 

The fire, the pestilence, the sword 

Are never all in fury sent. 

But join a blessing and a power 

To stir us up to greater deeds 

And higher actions than the heart 

Of man conceives in his low estate. 

Thus evil is not unmixed : part is good. 

And being good o 'ercomes the ill. 

Some say that even disease and death 

Are greater blessings than they seem. 

Relieving our humanity 

From all ill passions, and blunting the edge 

Of hatreds and of dark resolves, 

Uphold, ennoble, strengthen all. 

Sun, thrice ruler of the skies ! 
First Ruler when the morning breaks 
Across the eastern hills in light ! 
When sounds the shepherd's early horn 
And, answering from the low sheepcotes 
The tinkling bells ring echoing 
"Wierdly through the darke ravine; 
When soars the lark and linnet high : 
They first to greet the breath of morn ; 
When shakes the snake his dusky coil 
From hedge or brier or bushy brake, 
To throw the sloth of slumber off. 



94 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS, 

And piercing through the glassy glade 

The beetle wheels from his low retreat, 

And blooming morn comes chirping up 

To pull the tired world by the ears, 

And loose her pinioned feet from frost. 

When melts the ice on lake and stream. 

And rivers run to meet the sea, 

When every leaf and twig and bough 

Is brightening into newer life, 

Feeling the warm electric throb 

Of life in life just bursting out, 

Which hastens all the florid year 

Prom tone to echoed undertone : 

All this and more the earth doth show 

When Spring drinks those ethereal splendors int 

Next, Ruler, when thy car is drawn 

Midmost the purple disk of heaven. 

And flaming splendors rise and fall 

Across the changeful dial-plate, 

Saying, ''High noon is come, is come!" 

And the clanging bells re-echo it; 

Touching up earth most gloriously, 

As if with subtle magic charm 

That wand-like has the spell and power 

To change all to one form and likeness ; 

The fields are bright in their rich light, 

With grain in husk and corn in ear, 

And nuts in purple-tinted shells. 

Let us pause while we sing of the middle day 

To sing a song of the middle year : 

With silver finger golden-tipped 

Thou touchest the land and behold it lies 

Gem-like under thy finger-lids! 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 95 

The earth is adorned like a fairy bride, 

Daintily blooming rich and rare ; 

Ablaze with the pearl and the ruby-drop 

And bedecked with a crystal robe, 

Wearing the flower of the myrtle-tree; 

For the pride and joy of the year's great prime 

Will add to the mirth of the merriest man 

And soften the soul of the veriest churl. 

Summer and Sun of the summer time, 

Radiantly beautiful, joyously blest, 

To thee thrice Ruler of earth and skies 

Our chiefest songs and prayers arise. 

Third Ruler when the lowering sun 

Of evening gilds the western sky. 

And mild-eyed Venus from above 

Her gracious influence extends 

In silent majesty o'er earth; 

Then in the golden autumn-time. 

When generous store-houses are crammed 

With what the summer 's toil supplies, 

And lowly flowers with drooping heads 

Chilled by the early biting frosts 

Which nip the fields white from the blasts 

Of wintry breezes strew our path, 

We feel our gratitude to thee, 

Last Ruler when the Winter hoar 

Returns to lock the world in ice. 

And snowy crystals glistening white 

Cover all the village green. 

When Night with her host of stars draws round, 

And slumber her soft sceptre wields 

O'er earth to give release from pain 



96 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

And lull the weary heart to rest. 
When we behold the glorious worlds 
Which circle the deep realms of space, 
Our supplications then arise 
To thee that rulest Day and Night, 
And the countless Seasons as they roll ; 
O Sun, thrice Ruler of Earth and Skies, 
To Thee our orisons arise ! 



Gates of Pearl. 

{In the Lower World, according to Mythology, there 
were two gates at ivhich dreams ivere said to emerge; 
those which would not come true came from the Gate 
of Ivory, and those which were destined to come true 
from the Gate of Horn.) 

We faile of that which we wolden have, 

And in our madness evermore we rave, 

And when we been togederes everichon, 

Everiche man seemeth a Salamon. 

But al thing which that schineth as the gold, 

Is naught gohl, as that I have herd told; 

Ne every appel that is fair at ye, 

Ne is not good what so men clappe or cry. 

Right so, lo faretli it amongst us, 

He that seemeth the wisest . . . 

Is most fool when it cometh to the preef; 

And he that seemeth trewest is a tlieef, 

That shul ye knowe er that I from you wende. 

By that I of my tale have maad an ende. 

Canterbury Tales. 

Gates of Pearl, of richest pearl. 
While drive shrouding mists awhirl, 
And while dewy IMemory 
Sways a realm above man's eye, 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 97 

Ope thy portals heaven-wide 
That the incoming year's full tide 
May from all fair running streams 
Gather gems to deck light dreams. 
Bid the heaven-dropping dew 
Grant me vision clear and true; 
Of bright-beamed futurity 
Weave a gorgeous web for me: 
Soaring Fancy bear me shoots 
Of choice flowers and sweet fruits. 
Joyous morn for him that takes 
Pearl and opal from fair lakes : 
Golden-hearted symphonies 
From faint-clouded summer skies; 
Blossoms reaps from fairy trees, 
Nectar plucks from honey-bees : 
What time the new-budded lawn 
Makes a green pathway for the dawn; 
And the breast of the ckar bird 
Is with generous music stirred ; 
What time fringe of op.ening flowers 
Circled by the shadowy hours, 
Dreams a long dream, summer long, 
Sings a bright-lipped summer song. 
Fancy, drive life 's mists awhirl ! 
Open, open, Gates of Pearl! 

Gates of Pearl, of priceless pearl, 
I am richer than an earl. 
Stately palace deign to build 
With the lordliest treasures filled; 
Gems from all the world's rich strands, 
Stones from deep Australian sands, 



98 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Choicest works of art, so rare 
They once claimed a master's care, 
Carved table, sandal wood, 
Chest of ivory strong and good, 
Broad rooms for large breathing-space, 
Bust or statue in its place ; 
Rich adornments richly wrought 
By. skilled hand and cunning thought. 
All things to my pleasure move, 
And not recreant I prove ; 
Here wine^s twfety'*summers old 
Sparkle from their cups of gold, 
And in pleasure's ample round 
Full oft many a friend is found 
Where I take my silvery ease, 
Churl all these things fail to please! 
Or, if to strange lore inclined. 
Richly will I store my mind. 
From an infinite domain 
Knowledge draw, an endless chain, 
Till some sleepless anchorite 
En\'ies me my lone delight — 
Till kings come and homage pay 
To my counsels bend their sway, 
And my knowledge-burdened soul 
Compasses the mighty whole. 
But what is knowledge overgrown 
In a heart half turned to stone? — 
Knowledge learned but at the school 
Teaching man to play the fool, 
Virtue, worth, sincerity 
In the tradesman's gilded lie? 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 99 

From kind words true pleasures flow ; 
Gold is naught but empty show, 
All life's trappings are to life 
Dust of dust and strife of strife ! 
If I lack a human friend 
E'en though fortune should attend, 
And though richer than an earl. 
Vanish, vanish, Gates of Pearl ! 

Gates of Pearl, of rarest pearl. 
Pray what have we here, a curl? 
Yes, another and another, 
First a sister, then a brother. 
Fairy forms come circle round. 
Dancing all on fairy ground; 
Children of one parent form, 
Angels guard your feet from harm. 
You the calmly-yielding skies 
Tend with their soft ministries; 
Sweet influences from afar 
Lead you of some favoring star; 
Ye no pestilence may seek, 
Ye are too sublime and meek. 
Angels close your eyes in sleep. 
Watch 'er you the whole night keep, 
Till swift heralds of the morn 
Unbar their gates to day new born. 
Maidens in young womanhood, 
Youths in their strong manlihood, 
Grow within my sight so fast 
Credit scarce I can the past. 
While yet in life's fairy-time, 
Keeps my heart its golden prime; 



100 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

But the bitter blasts will blow : 

k50on shall, come the chilling snow. 

Will they be a heritage 

For the bending step of age ? 

Will they shelter then the head 

For thein that had eat bitter bread ; 

Faded flowers, lie they all 

'Neath the melancholy pall ? 

Not one left with me to tread 

Down the dark ways to the dead ! 

Yet I hoped adversity 

Would at least spare the bright eye, 

That its rising light might shine 

On the declining beams of mine ; 

That its fitful gleams might gild 

Some heart with youth 's freshness filled : 

Cheerful voices, joyous sound — - 

I should bless them from the ground ; 

If you bring one faded curl — 

Drop swiftly, Gates of Pearl ! 

Gates of Pearl, of glorious pearl ; 
Scenes of pleasure next unfurl ; 
Fairy forms and witching eyes 
Lure me to their paradise. 
Wealth, enjoyment, splendor, ease, 
Who would spurn such gifts as these ! 
Who that would not envy me, 
Even though a king he be. 
Sacrificing wealth and power 
To live in my little hour ! 
The -wandering beggar at my gate 
Receives my gifts and calls me great ; 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 101 

1 am courted, loved, admired; 
For happiness is aught else required ? 
But the sight I next would see 
Might dishearten even me. 
View I now my vacant life 
Vexed Avith unresponsive strife, 
Feeling every cankered dart 
Surfeit can o'ercharge the heart; 
Breathing every poisonous breath 
Of soul-disorganizing death, 
Seeing every prospect vain 
Linked to habit 's fateful chain ; 
"Wealth degenerate, honors goad, 
Groaning 'neath my sickening load, 
Finding every pleasure pall 
Gladly would I leave them all 
For one fitful hour 's release, 
A youth of innocence and peace. 
For one breath of youth's pure air. 
And its sleep discumbering care 
On its peaceful pillow rest. 
Or sink to sleep on nature's breast. 
I am weary now of pelf, 
Weary even of myself. 
Groan in luxury, pampered pride, 
And am still unsatisfied ; 
Sickness sits beside my bed. 
Death stalks near with muffled tread, 
Useless fair sights to the blind : 
More than pleasure craves the mind. 
Humblest peasant, hope elate 
Knows that only God is great! 



102 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Canker rusts the gathered gold, 
Beauty f adeth in the old ; 
Moths destroy and frosts consume 
Springtime's bud and summer's bloom; 
Riches soon shall fiy away, 
Fortune smiles but for a day : 
Honors perish one by one, 
Like the raindrops in the sun. 
Pleasures pass ere they are shed. 
Glory, splendor soon are sped ; 
Jime doth the loftiest fabric rust, 
Crumble in unsubstantial dust. 
What in life can yield content : 
Gold and tinsel ornament? 
Wealth may lure, but vain is he; 
Beauty charm, but 'tis not she ; 
Who to win renown or fame 
Would chill his heart or burn in flame, 
Wasting for such frail delights 
Weary days and fruitless nights? 
Or heap up the moiled treasure 
To drink deep the cup of pleasure ? 
King of riches I'm defined, 
But happiness nowhere I find ; 
Heavy heart and leaden eye 
Heave the inexpressive sigh ; 
Weary wretch of hope bereft, 
What to me of life is left ! 
Happiness sought I but ne'er found 
E'en in pleasure's giddy round. 
True content doth shun the spot : 
I have searched but found it not; 
Joy hath fled my presence quite, 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 103 

Clouds obscured the starless night, 
Peace of mind hath thither flown; 
Rest I know not where 'tis gone ; 
Hope from out my breast is torn; 
Soul all cheerless and forlorn, 
Ll« ,:fn''ng now earth's transient state, 
Know thou only God is great ! 
Seek not riches but the gift 
That doth to the light uplift. 
But if with these in years to come 
Grief doth make my heart his home; 
If ii vain I seek to borrow, 
Livii.!>' joy without its sorrow, 
Balm without affliction's sting, 
Waters save from troubled spring, 
Plcasi're without carking care, 
Never may I thither fare. 
Roses, rue, ye bloom in vain, 
Give me back my youth again ! 
Vanish sorrow, vanish joy, 
I would be once more a boy : 
Simpler pleasures, simpler pains. 
Oblivious of the world's rich gains. 
Lost to pleasure's giddy whirl — 
Vanish, vanish. Gates of Pearl ! 



104 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

To Washington. 

{Sonnets Read in the Preshyierian Church in Win- 
chester, April SOtli, 1889, on the occasion of the Wash- 
ington Anniversary.) 
Strong, calm, serene, with laurels on his brow 

A king might envy of a country freed, 

He who didst serve her at her utmost need 
Recieves the meed our willing liearts allow. 
Not unbefitting is it even now. 

For valorous action and high martial deed, 

We grant this day the well deserved meed 
The chief of them that laid the tyrant low ; 

But yet in him a higher claim doth live 
WJio in sweet peace performs a nobler part. 

Whom virtues stern and kindlier graces give 
To mould into one form, one soul, one heart, 

And leave to triumph over time's decay 
A nation strong and great that should not pass away. 

II. 

A hundred winters with fresh wreaths of snow 

Pave white a thousand glistening mountain-tops;. 
A hundred favoring summers come and go. 

And liarvest fruits and flowers, and generous crops 
Of corn and grain where'er the fair winds blow 
Spring from th« blossoms of the furrowed row. 

And buds that decked the leafy lap of ^lay 
Bring forth more glorious fruitage than of yore : — 

Still is the nation's strength not waned away; 
Still day and night and time hath brought us store 
Of triumpli that shall fail us nevermore; 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 105 

And, glorious guerdon of his natal day, 
Here truth brighter than time had seen before 
A silver seal hath set that may not pass away. 



Washington's Advance. 

(Written on the Anniversary of WasJiington\ 
Crossing the Delatvare.) 

The Delaware tumultuously 

Its torrent pours into the bay; 
The frozen crystals silently 

Have paved an icy way. 

And, borne adown the river-flood, 
Drifted into a strengthening gorge. 

While broken masts and spars of wood 
Lead on the furious charge. 

O who with nerves of subtle steel 

Will dare this swollen stream to cross. 

Thus perilous urge the public weal, 
Counting light gain but loss. 

What strong soul which the increasing years 
So temperest that its perfect light 

Upholds the w^eary day and cheers 
The cloud-encompassed night? 

What spirit that to the tyrant mind 
Hath subject e'en the tyrant will, 

And finds in puppet fate resigned 
]\Iore signal triumph still? 



106 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Who but the fearless Washington? 

Fame, where are all thy votaries tied? 
A million men and show'st but one 

Chief, king and ruling-head! 

Death well may plunge his falchion blade 
O'er the waste world in alien blood; 

He stands mid dangers undismayed 
And mocks their maddest mood. 

He comes ! the shores his approaching feet 
Announce, the quivering ripples move 

And tremulous they join their meet 
Allegiance to jprove. 

Swift at the ready chief's command 

His trusted followers engage 
The ships, which bear them safe to land 

Through the stream 's perilous stage. 

Thus e'en the conscious flood and ice 
Yield them a strong and sure support 

They the bold Hessian camp surprise 
And leave a ruined fort. 

So wondrously and with delight. 
In camp, by table and fireside 

Was told the tale of that dark night, 
Till it spread far and wide. 

Cheered were all hearts, the tide of war 
Turned till it set a nation free; 

The event like a triumphant star 
Outgrew Thermopyloe. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 107 

O Bannockburn ! Wallace, Bruce, 

Whose deeds the border minstrels sound, 

The nations now have called a truce, 
This, too, is holy ground. 

Come with your heaven-born blessed ray, 
Guide this late pilgrim to your shrine : 

The radiance of the newer day 
Fill it with fire divine. 

And as we uaff a nation's health, 
This be our pledge and prophecy: 
May true hearts be her richest wealth. 
Most prized security. 

Dec. 25, 1889. 



Lines Suggested by the Death of Rob- 
ert Browning. 

(Read at a Meeting of the Hawthorne Club, Win- 
chester, Ohio, in April, 1890.) 

I. 
Shut in a quiet chamber of the tomb 
Which for no gaudy ornament hath room, 
Save what sincerest grief in faith hath sent 
To that great soul in somber banishment ; 
Save some child-lispings of the journeying air 
Its henedicife repeating there; 
The sudden voice of country and of towTi, 
Of high and low, echoing his renown. 
And deep-soul felt regret that sullen Death 
Should snatch him ruthless from his native heath, 



108 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

There wrapped in slumber the dead poet lies 
Cut from his moorings in a nation's eyes. 

No pearl-drop, gleaned from Afrie's starry waves, 

Or gleaming sapphire from Golconda's caves, 

No gem of ruby or of diamond 

In the broad element of Ethiop' sunned, 

No flashing candle with fine gold inlaid 

Or waxen taper lights the solemn shade 

Yet this straight room set deep from side to side 

'ervaulting gloom is still more glorified : 

This the last resting-place of lofty thought 

Is luminous with the fullness it hath brought ; 

From far spheres drawn a living light doth gild 

His earth-home, all the outer space is filled, 

And from his radiant vesture reflected 

Collects to crown a very kingly head. 

Here oft may wander spirits of young flowers 

Dissolving their swoln fragrance in fresh showers, 

The faintest, fairest fox-glove of the dell 

This favored spot may know and mark it well, 

And branching palm and waving eglantine 

Where sweet birds warble in melodious line — 

Down to its deepest depths the laboring sea 

Its long-pent lashing waves again sets free 

To chant above his rest a requiem 

Majestically slow, mournful and solemn. 

A tomb within a tomb in faith wrought he. 
One nobler than the other e 'er can be ; 
One is of time and perishing with time 
The other broad, o'erarching the sublime; 
•One trails its failing honors in the dust ; 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 109 

The other soars above all taint or rust : 
Earth's glory fades within this cloister dim 
J\nd immoT'tality grows bright to gaze on him. 

The untrammeled soul from sun to sun doth climb 
Incognizant until it strikes chill time — 
Space un{>erceived it pervades as a sprm : 
(But to the incomprehensible mortal man 
Confined and fretted in his little hour, 
Not knowing his chain's length or spiritual dower, 
All things are bounded by the light that lies 
Within the confines of his physical eyes) 
Its orbit is a circle wider far 
Than th' outswinging, farthest-moving star; 
Creation can but limit by degrees 
The distance which its wings move through with ease, 
Unto the farthest circuit of the skies 
It goes and comes, fulfills its destinies. 
Time doth but alter it, but give it space 
To move and breathe, act in its accustomed place. 
Howe'er this entity in its release 
Doth find new joy with its old joy's increase. 
However much of foreign glory known 
It Avill return in splendor to its own. 
And in all beauteous forms come back to sit 
There and with light grace illumine it. 

II. 

The gorgeous sunlit land of Italy 
It was decreed by fate his home should be, 
There where the opening mind and generous heart 
Found room to breathe through poetry and art, 
Wliere mighty Raphael, Titian, Angelo 
Wrought moving figures that caught all the glow 



110 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Of genius bursting from the master's touch; 

Not prized in their generation overmuch, 

Which left to future men with loud acclaim 

To rescue the failing honors of their name. 

Prophets they were, the world but little thought : 

Angels they moved, but the people knew it not. 

Unseeing world that persecutest thy Lord, 

He brought thee peace, thou gavest him a sword! 

There poets of an old ancestral race. 

Whose fire from Homer came, their own the grace, 

To whose fleet-fingered, delicate muse was given 

Light of a fading yet a glorious even. 

Left upon the land and flowing streams 

The splendor and the glory of their dreams. 

Can we forget great Dante bold and strong 

Who claims half honors with the Ionian's tongue? 

Almost we see him in the twilight dim : 

A noble brow, a grizzled face and grim, 

Whom persecution followed strong and hot, 

Yet could not king or state 's decree or plot 

Enslave the energies of his high mind ; 

He yet had solace of a nobler kind : 

Though Florence, his loved home, he might not see, 

Exiled, an outcast, lone and forced to flee 

A fairer city, "a city of God, 

And Paradise and Hell, no king could defraud 

Or cheat him of, and what no mortal eye 

Might e'er behold, he should see ero he die; 

He saw, but "blasted with excess of light," 

Fast closed his eyes and sought the shades of night. 

But lo ! the city after he was dead 

Begged for his bones that spurned his living head. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. Ill 

Yet linger we in this enchanted land, 

For other brows fame 's laurel bays have fanned. 

Here Tasso, Petrarch, Boccaccio : 

The noble music of Ariosto 

Yet echoes through the bright and fertile plain, 

Then fain would sing itself to sleep again. 

Once more the blue vault of Italian skies 

Rekindles the old Aeolian melodies 

For bards of English mould here sought relief 

From life's distempers, bards of men the chief: 

And came two minds of marked activity — 

Shelley to drown and gentle Keats to die. 

Here Byron felt the music stir his soul 

Of the Avild sea that taught his strains to roll 

Swift yet majestic, terrible and grand 

"Like fair worlds fresh from the Creator's hand." 

And he the last minstrel of that strain forlorn 

Who sung neglected genius paid with scorn, 

Hither by lonely contemplation led, 

Paused at the fount that poisoned while it fed — 

The fatal potion he himself must drink. 

Half guessed the fate which lured him to the brink; 

In dreams heard the black waves rolling loud and long 

To quen(3h in darkness the celestial song. 

And what will Browning do among these shades 
Of heroes, these CA^er-blooming glades? 
The poet is not he whose harp is strung 
To divers tones, nor harpeth he but one, 
Rather is he who the color of his mJnd 
Gives to each object in its natural kind; 
Whose sight not with the outstretched horizon ends, 
But on into infinity extends ; 



112 P0E3IS OX VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Who knows where 'er he finds the good and true ; 

Not altogether discovers he the new, 

But rather finds the new lost in the old, 

As one tale's by a thousand various told. 

The hill and valley, river, fountain, field, 

To him a strange unknown delight can yield; 

The purple pomp of the encinctured sky 

He sees and paints it as it passes by ; 

Let nature write her language e'er so plain 

For him it must be written o'er again. 

Thus everything he looks at he sublimes. 

And leaves his image glassed upon the times. 

III. 

But he alone is great who above mean praise. 

Is great through all the circle of his days ; 

Whose life is modeled to that perfect law 

Its greatness casts in the shade the minor flaw. 

Who dares the world to brave, opinion scorn, 

And grasps his truth unshackled and unsworn ; 

Well knowing that if worth a fig the world 

Will not forever let its lips be curled, 

That there shall come a day when it will turn 

To humbly sit down at his feet and learn. 

Not part fruition demands the all-seeing soul : 

It must 1)6 rounded out, involve the whole. 

Complete integrity in every part. 

It asks of the mind no less than of the heart. 

When, one we see whose life's tranquility 

Belies the gaze which pierces infinity ; 

Who, prompt to seize the substance through che form. 

Proclaims the sky serene above the storm, 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 113 

When such we see we recognize a higher 
Than we ; we love, we venerate, we admire ; 
What matter though the words be harsh we hear 
Though the man stammer, is not plain or clear; 
If the God's message was to him revealed, 
Then by no mortal were his lips unsealed; 
Though he were blind of eye or ear, or dumb, 
Yet would he speak, from his soul the visions come- 
Where 'er he be the man of thought will read, 
Though the mad mob may give but feeble heed. 
But if the man have no divine command, 
What then avail his graces, manners bland, 
His liuency of speech, his sparkling eye 
To briefly flutter in his hour and die. 
Though all the potentates of earth befriend. 
No star will favor, no deity attend. 
And in the forceful currents of this life 
Where Light and Darkness wage unequal strife; 
Where JMammon rules, and every subtle v/ile 
And cunning craft almost the elect beguile, 
Blest be the man who with unblinded sight 
Directs the world towards the central light. 
Who dares look cant unblenching in the face, 
Chases the idols from the market-place ; 
The money-changers from the temple drives, 
And takes the prop from out inglorious lives. 
If he move forward, 'though it be inch by inch, 
;?'^is something — something if he do not flinch. 
He too acutely feels, he sees too deep. 
With over-nice perception to make clear 
As that which lieth close at hand and near. 
The moon's bold lineaments are plainer far 



114 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

That e'en the broad disk of King Jupiter. 

The rude and harsher touch we may forgive 

If sterner, stronger, manlier we shall live. 

He braves the tempest 's elemental wrath 

Who in an unknown ocean carves a path. 

The pioneer of truth alone he stands 

Between the mighty ocean and the lands. 

Once found, some lesser mind will broaden it. 

And build a very pleasure house of wit; 

Alas! the world is too apt to forget 

Meum and tuum and repay the debt. 

All ye who with Paracelsus aspired, 

Know ye where lies the truth that you desired? 

It blossoms not beneath the world's vain gaze; 

'Tis kindled not at fashion's dizzying maze. 

Its face we see reflected in the stream, 

It glistens in the morning's earliest beam; 

It sparkles in the coronet of night, 

'Tis mingled with a thousand beams of light. 

Its common seed upon the wind is sown. 

But he who receives it only makes his own. 

Then let each break bread for his own feast ; 

Be to himself sole prophet, scribe and priest; 

Let neither Doubt nor Devil him appall 

Knowing that ever the sincere act counts for all; 

What he sincerely doeth shall not fall; 

That noble effort's good for its own sake 

If it the lion in the eye shall wake; 

But he deserves to have who is prompt to seize; 

"There is no Paradise for slothful ease." 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 115 

An Ode to a Sicilian Vase 

Unearthed Near Palermo. 
What lissome form is slumbering here? 

"What fount distilled those dewy eyes? 
What made such beauty to appear, 

And snatched this seraph from her skies? 
In vain his art the artist tries 

To copy nature 's lovely form, 
The passing transport swiftly flies, 

And lost in shadow or in storm, 
Eludes the faithful watcher's eyes. 

Such matchless grace and skill is blent 
In these still features line by line. 

Had nature not the beauty lent, 
She would have craved a touch as fine. 

Here triple-armored Mars doth bow 

To Jove, and asks the monarch 's grace, 

The god awhile averts his face. 

Then glancing at the tranquil sun. 

That yet. but half his race hath run. 
His lifted lance prepares to throw. 

There Juno, queen, with raptured ga;^e, 
Her pale meek eyelids heavenward sends. 

Great Jove is listening while she prays, 
And swift to succor her attends: 

His foaming coursers champ the bit. 

The queen beside the god doth sit. 
And see in silken state where lies 

Love's Venus on her gilded couch. 
A waxen slumber closed her eyes. 

Or Amaryllis* liquid touch. 



116 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS.' 

And there in meek obeisance stands 

Minerva with uplifted hands; 

Apollo strikes a tuneless lyre : 

His shafts fly harmless through the air. . ' 

How swiftly glides the conqueror's car 
Where sit those heroes who withstood 

The mighty enginery of war. 

Though crimson their swords with hostile blood, 

With great eclat the conquerors come, 

Their "triumph" shakes the walls of Rome. 

Now turn we to a different scene, 

To watch the dancers on their round, ; 

Dancing on the village green 

Unto the pipe and tabor's sound. 
The moon serene is in the height, 

And torches turn the night to day. 
Glimmering 'mong stars that shed their bright 

Blossoms on the rustic play; 
Who standing by would not that he 
Were party to the revelry. 

The bright young school-boy fresh from school. 
Forgetting now the teacher 's rule ; 
The teacher stands in lazy joy, 
Yet well he knows each idle boy 
And reads each upturned countenance. 
And marks love's furtive stolen glance. 
See the maiden there with brown, 
Hazel eyes mildly cast down, 
And hear her lover's low reply. 
Though mirth is glistening in her eye 
And rippling o 'er her sun-burned face, 
To see her partner's doubtful grace. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 117 

Swift in kaleidoscopic change 

The figures vanish from the stage; 
They fade before the new and strange, 

They perish piecemeal age on age ; 
They swifter than the whirlwind pass — 

They pass and leave a sordid thought, 

A bitter aching pain, a blot, 
That time can never fill, alas ! 

We are not what we were, though more. 

Yet less than in the days of yore. 
As life's thin sands run out time's glass. 

So in the eye of memory 
Perish like flowers the dreams of youth, 

From boughs that were wont to be 

Laden with fruit and fair to see 
A winter wind has shaken ruth. 

And from their withered branches shed 

A fallen fruitage of the dead. 

The friends who smiled our path upon 

In life's fair springtime now are gone; 

A sadness passing that of tears, 

A woe that waits upon the vanished years. 

One only hope remains to mock the gloom 

Which shrouds the past in memory's pallid tomb. 

A softer consolation we may find 

In even tenor of heroic mind. 



Ode to the Brave Warrior. 

I saw a warrior proudly mailed, 

With burnished sword and glittering spear; 
Into the thickest fight he sailed, 

And recked not death and danger near; 
The meadow grass was brown and sere, 

The skies were ghastly overhead, 
While strewn as on a wintry bier 

Lay thousands of the fallen dead. 

Wliere dost thou go, warrior, say? 

The gloomy skies are black as lead, 
While all along thy darkening way. 

Lie bleeding forms and mangled dead; 
And from yon hilltop's ragged crown, 

From level plain to mountain-steep 

Fast as your columns onward sweep, 
A dozen batteries mow them down. 

"I fear not any earthly foe;" 

His eyes were fixed upon the sky. 

" 'Twas duty's call that bade me go: 

And it is noble still to die; 

Nor any hidden peril nigh — 
More bitter than the biting wound. 

The fret and fury of the fray, 
With my companions falling 'round, 

'Tis this that wears my life away! 
The kind, good word, the praise 'well done.' 
The recompense at set of sun, 
Arms me with strength to push still higher: 
Sustains me through the galling fire. 
Far through the battle's maddening crush 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 119 

Beckons yon constellated height; 
Thither my way I fain would push 

By my strong arm and heaven's might. 
And though the smoke and blinding dust 

Of rolling colur:ins choke my sight, 
Yet will I lose nor faith nor trust 

In my strong arm and heaven's right. 



I saw a youth armed for the strife, 
Start in the battlefield of life, 
And then a Leader strong uprear 
His banner 'mid the noisy crowd; 
Him greeted they as he did appear; 

Unto his speech vast senates bowed. 
But lo ! what mighty change there came ; 

For soon by envy disallowed. 
So was he set upon, abused, 
The good and bad so interfused ; 
(For less of praise was there than blame), 
His fairest glory turned to shame — 
Men grew to loathe his very name. 
As those swift-moving tongues of flame 
Quickly made mischief with his fame. 
When none so good and wise as he: 
None certainer of victory. 
Then said I : "So this is life : 

But which is the nobler to submit — . 
To fate, or take arms in the strife 

And overmastering, conquer it." 



120 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 
Song of the Blackbird. 

[Note. — The blackbird frequents hedges, thickets and 
woods; is shy, restless and vigilant, keeping much under cover 
of evergreens and shrubs, and when disturbed takes flight with 
a vociferous chattering of alarm, taking refuge in a neighbor- 
ing thicket. Its food consists of worms, snails, insects, fruits, 
etc. — Chamber's Encyclopaedia.] 

I sing no song of wintry days ; 

I dream not of the shadowy past ; 
I love not the sun's bright blaze, 

Nor yet skies with thick clouds o 'ercast ; 
In thicket, grove, or woody dell 

I sit when everything is still, 
And pour my music's magic spell. 

The notes the zepherous breezes fill. 
There through the summer day I dwell 

And whistle, whistle a good will, 
And from the summit of the hill 
I whistle, whistle, whistle still. 

I sing a song of keen delight 

When harvest fields are ripe with grain ; 
I covet not the plumage bright 

Of red bird, blue bird, robin, wren ; 
For in my suit of glossy black. 

Thick coated of a tarry jet 
I can as well the hunter's track 

Elude, the sportsman's gun or net; 
On summer days, when fields are white, 

I whistle, whistle with good will, 
' And close beside the neighboring hill, 

' I whistle, whistle, whistle still ! 



FOE MS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 121 

No song so glad and free as mine; 

No grief disturbs my life or fears ; 
My neighbors may outsing, outshine, 

I have a louder voice than theirs. 
"When springtime comes, 'tis my delight 

To feast on cherries ripe and pears, 
And as the luscious fruit I bite ' , 

I feel no weight of earthly cares. . ,■ 

Then from the thicket dark as night 

I whistle with a right good will. 

And round about the neighboring hill 

I whistle, whistle, whistle still ! 



On the Death of R. A. Proctor the As- 
tronomer, 

Who Died of Yellow Fever in Florida the 
Autumn op 1888. 

Alone he sleeps among the dead: 
The light of stars about his head! 
The worlds gleam on the mortal grave 
Of him who half their glories gave 
To man, and with skilled fingers wrought 
Their wonders into life and thought 

Alone he sleeps ! Above his head 
The ivy creeps, the moss is spread. 
The cricket chirps a soft adieu. 
And nightly sobs the solemn yew, 



122 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

For nature never stoops to scorn 

Like man, where earthly pride is shorn. 

Alone he sleeps, and let us cease 

O'er him fierce clamor, let peace 

Spreading her wings to banish strife 

Renew her all too transient life. 

And wordy tumult rancorous 

Sink low as from pure gold drops dross. 

Alone he sleeps — but not alone; 
In other orbs his gift is known; 
Sirius, the Dog Star watches him, 
The Lion, Regulus from the brim 
Of heaven, guarding, eyes his bed. 
O he we scarce can deem is dead! 

Rides Arcturus, the Herdsman bold. 

Strings Vega all her Harp of gold. 

And Cygnus, Swanlike spreads his wings 

In mockery of terrestrial things. 

Last, Leader of the glorious line, 

Orion sheds her beams divine. 

Alone he sleeps, within his breast 
All earthly tumult sinks to rest; 
No alien hands unkindly bear 
This light aerial child of air. 
But soft as ether breath is blown 
A spirit comes to claim its own. 

The Spirit of the Universe; 

His mighty IMother and his Nurse 

Through all his varied great career; 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 123 

'Tis she comes whispering in his ear, 
And draws away a kindred soul; 
Absorbed into the mystic whole. 

Wliere is he? There lies mouldering 
His mortal frame, but on swift wing 
His spirit treads the viewless air, 
And all of glory bright is there. 
Where, not the humblest 'md the throng 
His harp stirs with celestial song. 

His is the music of the spheres 

Too deep withdrawn for human ears,- 

Now he knows much where once a part 

But half disclosed creation's heart; 

Yet ever rise new mysteries 

To be unrolled before his eyes. 

Behold where in the azure dome 

This Ariel hath built his home; 

From far-off worlds groM-n faint and gray 

He leaps across the Milky Way; 

From systems unto systems runs 

Where flash the fires of other suns. 

But hark a voice: "Come thou not near," 
Falls soft as drops an angel's tear; 
"The shell is broke, the bond is free, 
And now he is become as we, 
Crown of the constellation's day! 
Why weepest thou, thou child of clay? 

"His work is finished: let him rest; 
While folded lilies cross his breast. 
His influence we may part compute; 



124 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Its greater glory still is mute, 
In widening circles it transcends 
All human means and human ends, 

*' Silent he sleeps, but shineth yet 
His light, though this life's sun is set; 
It broadened knowledge, strengthened truth, 
Of noblest purpose, strongest faith 
"Wrought much for man : shall this be said 
• Of us when lain among the dead?" 



Will of the Mill. 

The river rolled majestic. 

Like a melting silver bar, 
Neath the new moon's golden crescent. 

And the paly morning star. . . ■ ■ 

From season on to season, 

And on from year to year; 
Resistless, restless, changeless. 

Whether murky, dark or clear. 

It had kept its even current, 

A stream that was never still — • 
Through the bridge and across the moorland, 

To the home of Will of the Mill. 

All day through winter and summer, 

His heart beating light with joy, 
"Worked from dawn to daylight, 

This blithesome farmer boy. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 125 

No other name wavS he known by, 

To the comrades that worked by his side, 
Than Will of the Mill in the forest, 
On the bank of the river's tide. 

fie slept in a little boat-house, 
Built just across the bank. 
And oft in the evening twilight, 
His slight form, thin and lank. 

Might be seen by a few cottagers, 

Crossing the brimming stream, 
His boat through the silvery waters. 

Gliding smooth as a fairy's dream. 

He lived alone, his parents 

Died years ago ; fhey slept 
In the quiet village church-yard 

Where the trees of the forest kept 

Their silent watch, and often on Sunday 

He stood beside their tomb 
And bared his head to the breezes. 

Alone in the twilight gloom. 

Well knew the villagers the story, ' 

Of how he had toiled and striven. 
To erect this memorial tablet, ; 

To those who had passed to heaven. 

One comrade he had, one playmate, 

She was a neighbor's child. 
With hair like the rippling sunshine. 

And eyes that M^ere blue and mild. 



126 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

A maiden of sixteen summers, 

Yet seemed she not so- old, 
Who was like some ethereal being, 
In fairy stories told. 



And he loved the little maiden, 

With the bright eyes and golden hair, 
Though he was years the older — 
She was so exceeding fair. 

And she may have loved him, I know not, 
Though I was told she said so to him 

As they stood alone one evening, 

When the shadows were growing dim. 

And his arm stole gently around her, 
While they plighted their mutual love; 

Some day they should be married, 
Their constancy to prove. 

'Twas a stormy night in November, 
And the heavens were dark and wild ; 

He had left his boat near the mill-race, 
When into it crept this child 

To cross the raging water, 

No matter what perils attend; 
Seizing the oars, soon in the middle stream, 

He saw her plunge and bend. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 127 

To "Will, in his little boat-house, 

The maiden's cries were borne. 
Awaking him from his slumber, 

Could he rescue the maid forlorn. 

Loudly he called unto her; 

Alas ! it was all in vain ; 
Would she dare to cross the torrent? 

She had started, it was plain. 

The craft was careering wildly, 

The waves rose to fearful height, 
He heard her scream, and then he plunged 

Into the Stygian night. 

He swam at first, how boldly. 

Into the foaming waves, 
But the strong tide and angry surges. 

Pressed over the youth, so brave. 

She stepped on the shore then quickly 

Aid for her lover sought she ; 
Vain were her hopes of rescue. 

In the fatal race was he. 

Down, down, the fearful current 
Swept him towards the fatal mill; 

Would Heaven or mortal stop him, 
'Ere he reached those wheels, so still? 

But ever onward it bore him, 

Wliile his cries arose in the dark, 
In safety to the other shore. 

Rode the maiden's fragile bark. 



128 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Next day a workman tried to start 
The wheels in the early light; 

'Twas all in vain, the steam gauge turned. 
Would not budge them ere so slight. 

To discover the cause, the miller 
Went out to inspect the wheel ; 

Alas ! a woeful, horrible sight, 
The sun's first beams reveal. 

For there was the mangled body, 
All crushed and bleeding and torn, 

And between the spokes of the cruel wheel 
His auburn locks lay shorn. 

And in after years the maiden. 

Now to a woman grown. 
Would gaze from her cottage window 

On the river dark and lone. 

To the spot where her old-time lover. 
Met his death in the raging tide. 

Through winter and spring and summer, 
Until at last she died ! 



The Steamer Clyde. 

It was upon a glorious day 

In the most glorious month of ^lay. 

When op'ning flowers smile, 
That in a sunny Southern clime, 
Whose very breezes with a rhyme 

The lingering hours beguile. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 129 

Upon the Mississippi broad, 
Proud ruler with a lengthening rod 

Of Western waters wide; 
There moved so stately it might seem 
The ideal of a painter's dream, 

The beauteous steamer Clyde. 

So fair her fluttering streamers rise, 
So fast the moving vessel flies 

In majesty so grand, 
The inmates bid a light adieu. 
With cheerful hearts. Captain and crew 
Steam from the fading land. 

The passengers with joy behold 
The rising sun like burnished gold 

Gild all the watery realm. 
The pilot sitting by his wheel. 
In even motion keeps the keel. 

Guides steadily at the helm. 

Tossed by the gentle • summer breeze, 
In rhythmic motion move the trees 

Upon the western shore; 
The silvery waves in ripples light 
The sunshine turns to gay and bright. 
What peril can lurk before? 

So swift and light mid silvery gleam 
Of waters down the widening stream 

The vessel moves away, 
Behind the wheels the wave-crests break, 
For roods and leave a glistening wake, 

Or rise aloft in spray. 



130 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 
Thus all day long the vessel rode 
The water, bearing on her load 

Of freight and human lives ; 
On till the evening star appears, 
And night draws with her radiant spheres, 

The vessel onward drives. 

Then suddenly, what phantom fright? 
The pilot spies a glancing light, 

It near and nearer draws; 
Why 'twas the light-house, that seemed plain^ 
Illumining the watery main, 
This surely is the cause. 

Speechless with terror next he sees 
Approaching them by slow degrees 

The evanescent spark, 
Then cabin windows rise to view , 
"Was it a steamer overdue. 

Or was't a phantom bark? 

A sudden cry, a fearful groan, 

From hearts with terror turned to stone, 

Bursts on the quiet night. 
The vessel to the larboard swings. 
Then downward with all living things, 

Sinks slowly out of sight. 

Quickly the life-boats seize the crew, 
Men, women and children load into 

And row towards the shore; 
They reach in safety, but the mass 
Sink to a watery grave, alas ! 

To be seen nevermore ! 



T0EM8 ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 131 

Next day of all that fatal wreck, 
Some timbers from the ruined deck, 

"Was all that could be seen ; 
The pilot house, a floating spar — 
A body cast upon a bar — 

To show the wreck had been. 

And long years after travellers there 
"Were pointed from the mountain where 

Was sunk the steamer Clyde, 
A hundred lives on board, they said, 
Were gathered with th' unnumbered dead — 

Lost in the river's tide. 

Now near that spot no sound is heard. 
Save the warble of a singing bird, 

Hid in a leafy dell ; 
And never axe or hammer wakes 
An echo, or the silence breaks 

Where the black waves ebb and swell. 



Ultima Thule. 

1 was musing on the triumphs of this great trium- 
phant age; 

T was gleaning from the story told in many a scat- 
tered page, 

-And I said : will human effort reach a higher, nobler 
stage ? 

Somewhere in this passing pageant while the mills of 
progress grind; 



132 rOEMS OX VARIOUS OCCASIOXS. 

Somewhere in the onward marches and the mastery of 

mind 
Comes tlie dead-line of perfection to the hosts of 

liuman kind. 

Tlien the low level of existence seeks the high and 

holier way, 
Newer forms spring up to flourish, ancient creeds 

sink to decay. 
And the dawn of Nature's day light brightens to the 

perfect day. 

Then the times of wild achievement come to vanish 

in a dream. 
And the meteor-march of science, ruthless as a swollen 

stream. 
Beats against tlie seven-barred gates, that guard the 

realms of the supreme. 

Onward, upward, now is voiced like a mighty chief's 

command. 
And the proud cry of "Excelsior" swells and echoes 

through the land ; 
Then the glowing "ne plus ultra," written with a 

glowing hand. 

And our shores no more shall mutter to the chains 

which foot enthall ; 
For above the plains of effort and above and over all, 
We shall rest upon the mountains where the rays of 

glory fall. 

Then shall universal Justice stand as guardian of the 

right, 
Error, Wrong and Superstition, tortured witli excess 
. of light, 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 133 

Vanish like the mists of morning gathered to their 
native night. 

Dead or out-worn faiths shall perish, motley and moth- 
eaten creeds, 

And the jewel-crown of virtue shall be set with noble 
deeds ; 

And the Brotherhood of j\[an shall spring where Con- 
cord sows her seeds. 

Deep and moving spirit voices then shall haunt us 

from the past, 
Saying in whispers soft as slumber, though they echo 

loud and vast. 
Now behold the full-grown blossom that is come to 

fruit at last. 

Dark are all the days before us, all that will be is 
not seen, 

E'en though rifted clouds upgathered, light as gos- 
samer intervene, 

Fancy paints in borrowed colors, on a dim-illumined 
screen. 

Nature yet holds countless wonders which we can not 

all unseal. 
Blind and silent-working forces, that we are not yet 

to feel 
In abeyance until comes a master-spirit to reveal. 

Yet, whate'er the future brings us 'tis enough that 
we may know. 

If in lightness or in darkness that our work lies; be 
it so. 

We are builders or destroyers and we make or over- 
throw. 



134 rOEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

'Tis enough if we but comprehend the half that shall 

appear, 
If the light of truth and duty beam upon us strong 

and clear, 
And 'tis our to know and guard it, tliis is our Mil- 

lenial Year. 



Ode to a Dewdrop. 

Thou airy crysolite, 
Rich-hued, many prismed, bright as the sun, 

Frail hoverer on the fringes of the night, 
In life's fresh dawn, wlien hope and fear were onej 
Thou guard 'st the 'scutcheon of the peerless youth, 
Emblem of purity, the star of truth. 
What myriad forms of life dost thou not contain, 
Were all things made plain, 

Mirrored firm and clear, 

To him that seest thee here, 

The world of wonders in one drop of rain. 
Swelling from thy surface to thine inmost vein? 
All sounds which vibrate on the lancet ear. 

All colors that greet the microscopic eye. 
Then might 
lie seize a portion of the infinite, 
IMight revel in a sub-lunar sky, 
iMight see the earth by angel footsteps trod, 
And hear the very Avhisper of his God. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 135 



The Bum. 

Beside a street-lamp, all alone, 

Reclined a sad and weary bummer, 

His head upon a paving stone. 

He seemed the last sad rose of summer. 

A ragged coat and rusty vest. 

Which did not fit him to the letter, 

But then, alas ! they were his best, 
What folly then to wish for better. 

His shirt was also slightly torn, 
But were it in a thousand tatters 

He still would swear as he had sworn. 
He did not mind such trifling matters. 

His boots were filled with gaps and cra3ks. 
The muddy, rough, ill-shapen creatures. 
The self-same slime had left its tracks 
Upon the bum's once noble features. 

A brick-bat scar upon one eye, 

A half -formed leer upon the other. 

He looked as if content to die 
And leave his salary to another. 

His face bore antiquated marks ; 
A chimney-sweep 's could scare be grimer. 
Which told me he was one of the "larks," 
A regular, downright "old-timer." 

Poor man, it seemed that his best years 
He'd given to serve his favorite devil, 



136 POEMS OiX VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

Had brought scarce else than sighs and tears. 
To pay him for his drunken revel. 

It seemed he had so callous grown, 
To this world's fortune or disaster, 

That dram shops were for him alone, 
To bring him to his grave the faster. 

Poor bummer ! You are wrong, not he. 
Just a.sk him, punch him, turn him over, 

And you will very quickly see 
The bum is in his natural clover. 

Straight up the lamp-post to the light 
The man long gazed with eyelids blinking, 

And then he thought — no that's a flight 
Of fancy, for he did no thinking — 

Ilis mind just wandered 'till it fixed 
Upon the days he knew no longer, 

"Wlien "whisky straight" was sometimes mixed 
With alcohol, or something stronger. 

It seemed that ripe Catawba then. 
Would set him up without the trouble 

Of adding to one glass, say ten. 

Or twice the quantity again, plus double. 

The brandy then would surely beat 
What now, they say, is nrst-rate liquor; 

The beer of those days now seemed sweet, 
The ale, perhaps, a trifle thicker. . , 

But good, old Bourbon beat them all; 
They were his Alphas and Omegas; 
This modern stuff would scarcely crawl, 
Wliile it ran down his Oesophages. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 137 

The liquor now would hardly pass 

For water in its earlier stages ; 
The barmen then threw down a glass, 

Where now they draw to little gauges. 

He thought of wife and children, pshaw ! 

Such thoughts were foreign to his liking; 
Left to the mercy of the law, 

They'd be beyond the reach of striking. 

What are those glowing memories 
That stir his very soul to frenzy? 
Why, what 's the matter with his eyes ? 
His throat is parched, he has the quinsy. 

What rises to his eyes ? Why, tears. 

They're very foolish to his thinking. 
What use to cherish idle fears, 

When he can drown them all by drinking ? 

What is that making giddy rout 

Within his brain in. mad derision. 
Menageries, who turned them out? 

Back, horrid shapes, fly fearful vision ! 

Yonder a gin shop opens its door. 

He slowly rises from the gutter, 
His feet give way, he sprawls before 

The passers-by who hear him mutter : 

"Grive me a drink," they hear him say, 
"To quench this horrid burning fever, 

A dram shop's just across the way, ' 

You see its lights are burning ever. 



138 POEMS OX VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

"One drink to (lucncli my parching thirst, 
To cheer this poor, worn heart another, 

0, if you've never taken the first, 
Have pity on a weaker brotlier. " 

He fell, his limbs with palsy shook, 
He sank down in the gutter groaning, 

Ilis eyes assumed a lurid look, 

Through foam-flecked lips, they hear him 
moaning. 

Quickly to his relief came one. 

With water to bathe his throbbing temples, 
"We can not leave him here alone. 

There are too many such exan.ples." 

"In truth," said one, "he soon will be 

Beyond the reach of our enbalming;" 
Another some signs of life could see. 
Whilst others thought that he was shamming. 

Then as the light came to his eyes, 
A horrid night-mare seemed to trouble, 

And striving partly to arise. 

Though he was bended nearly double. 

"Now, if one in the crowd will deign 

To oifer me a dime or nickle, 
With eager hand, I '11 seize the coin. 

Lest fortune's fingers still prove fickle." 

At length, a passer-by, aloud. 

Unable to withstand his pleading, 

Seeing no others in the crowd, 
In his behalf were interceding. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 139 

■"Here is a dime, and may it bring 

You joy, both present and hereafter," 

He said, the coin prepared to fling, 
His fingers searched his pockets after. 

But ere the bum stood with his hand 

Outstretched to seize the wished-for treasure 

The forms of courtesy demand 

Return, it seemed in eqaal measure. 

Seizing his hat, his head bowed low. 

He stood, the lamp-light round him gleaming. 

His ruddy features all aglow, 

While joy upon his face was beaming. 

^'Kindness to the giver is not reft 
Of value but some blessing fetches, 

There is, I see, some pity left 

In the world for even us poor wretches. 

And though thg liquor now is thin. 
It used to be they made it stronger, 

I reckon we kin take it in, 

'Ef we have to drink a little longer." 

^'Jes' drop it in there," stretching his hat, 
He said, his utterance growing thicker, 

■"Though I'm as blind as any bat, 
I want another glass of liquor." 



140 rOEMS ox VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 



Alcibiades. 

Here had I hoped a respite from those wars, 

Broiling the nation in intestine strife, 

Nor strokes of arms nor grave concerns of state. 

Should come to vex me in my Phrygian nest. 

Yet it is not in the spirit of man 

To suffer long to battle and be vanquished, 

And not hold towards the victors bitter spite. 

But yesterday my courier brought a message, 

And eagerly besought that I should hear. 

'Twas that the Tyrants plot against my life. 

"Well might I die if it brought peace to Athens; 

But if a cruel war, then let me live, 

If but to see the proud usurpers slain. 

Yet, even now, do I not accuse my country ; 

No, rather than impute to her a fault, 

I were content to languish in lonesome prison. 

Peopled by bats and snakes and creeping vermin^ 

Pine of a long fever, die of dropsy, 

Or fill my veins up with some poisonous ichor ; 

Sooner than fatten in this soft retreat. 

But rather to deplore my sullen fate. 

My heedless haste as well as slow delay, 

Wliich took no note of time or tide or fortune, 

Or breeze of heaven when it blew to windward. 

Nor do I pray the gods to intercede 

Jn iiiy ])ehalf, warding their shafts of anger. 

Would I had perished with Antiochus, 
Out-generaled by a servile slave of Xerxes, 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 141 

And vanquished by a silly Persian boy, 
For it were honor to meet death in battle, 
Even with barbarians with unsullied arms, 
Than I, the proudest of my country's warriors, 
"Who braved the flower of Lactedemon strength, 
(Thrice banished from my country still I love her) 
Should perish like a dog here in the dust, 
And meet with death in this lonely forest. 
In alien lands, unknown, unwept, unhonored. 

Does Greece charge me with base ingratitude? 

Then may Greece live to mourn her utter folly. 

Por though she live or die, I will not chide her, 

And though I die, I die a patriot; 

Me, they may kill but can not take my honor. 

How long is 't since I had a bodeful vision ? 

A fortnight hence, 'tis scarce a month ago. 

I well remember, Timandra, that you dressed me 

In your long robes and I stood before you. 

Clothed like a woman ; a weakness worse than woman 's 

]S[ow comes to torture me with mortal anguish, 

You know the Athenians called me a weak woman, 

"Which once I thought was jest, but now I know 

They spoke the bitter truth, even in their ravings. 

Last night, again I had a fearful dream : 

I thought, Heaven, can aught those shapes dispel? 

O fearful sight that chills my very marrow, 

That turns my blood to ice, my veins to snow, 

Even as the memory returns again ; 

Close at my back, lithe, straight as an arrow. 

In brazen helmet and with covered visage. 

There stood a silent executioner, 



142 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS, 

That with one move of his uplifted axe, 
And then a mighty stroke, cut off my head* 
Which rolled down to the ground, and I beheld 
My body writhing and my muscles quiver. 
My tongue protruding from my frothing mouth. 
And then I aw^oke, all in a clammy sweat, 
And bathed my throbbing temples into quiet. 
And now I know it was the hand of fate. 
Had I the faith that could move earth and Heaven, 
To bid yon mountain sink into the mere. 
From earth's four quarters loose the brooding whirl- 
wind 
And make great Zeus loose his faithful lightnings. 
To smite my oppressors down in the dust. 
Yet would I not implore these sovereign powers 
To abate one jot or tittle of my fate ; 
Fled from your arms, Timandra, I go 
To seek the endless shades, no tears I shed, 
But calmly wait the end of all things human. 
(Would that my country's foes had perished with me.) 
Wrapped in my robe of state, but not forever. 
For my brave deeds I know will live behind me 
Enrolled in fame's eternal chronicles. 
Triumphing over the weakness of dull time; 
]Mourning for Greece with unrequited passion, 
Leaving her there to sink among her foes. 



* These two dreams are nieiitioned by Plutarcli. The scene 
is well calculated to inspire a modern European with terror, 
but the ancient Greeks were taught xo meet death without 
flinchinj);. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 143 

A Dream of Andalusia. 

(Suggested by reading Irving's "The Alhambra.") 
Tripping lightly o'er the plain; 
(Such scenes will ne'er return again) 
Youths and maidens of all ages, 
Fairer than in storied pages. 
Or live in chronicle and song, 
They can not be with us long. 

Dames of high and low degree. 
Blossoming in chivalry.. 
Let us watch them as they go 
''On the light, fantastic toe," 
Wines, the finest of the earth, 
Drink, for life was made for mirth. 
"With the mage Eodriguez, 
Under groves of olive trees. 
Beneath the dark Alhambra 's shade. 
In sombre majesty arrayed, 
Where the men of ancient Spain 
Live and breathe and move again ; 
Mid the blue Sierra mountains 
By Linderaxa's silvery fountains. 
In the magic "Court of Lions," 
Where live yet the modern scions 
Of the Moor's ancestral race. 
Claiming still their rightful place. 
Or in Loxa 's gloomy cavern. 
Or the Andalusian tavern. 
Prom the courtj^ard of the inn, 
Now behold the dance begin. 
Instruments of magic sound, 



144 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

While the foaming cup goes round, 
(yRstanets that sound afar, 
With soft notes of the guitar. 
With hostess and fair Josefa, 
Tripping lightly o'er the plain, 
Such scenes shall ne'er return again. 

Full oft is the story told 

In many a legend, quaint and old, 

Of warriors bold, that sleep enchanted 

In some grim cavern, dark and haunted, 

'Till some one doth release the spell, 

For ages that hath bound them well; 

The king that hath three daughters fair, 

Each cavalier doth bravely bear. 

Safely away, fleet as the wind. 

Save Zorakayda left behind; 

Of Aben Habez's magic tower. 

Built by priests' alchemic power. 

Plunging his foes in dire distress 

By a simple game of chess, 

Or if it be our pleasure 

To view the INIoor's long hidden treasure. 

We seize again the Arab's paper, 

And by aid of his thin taper. 

Behold the jewels, it unlocks, 

Securely hid beneath the rocks ; 

See the three mghts descend below, 

Their pavement close with thunderous blow. 

Or Ahmed by love's pangs distressed, 

Start out upon his amorous quest. 

Mid lawns and groves and shady bowers, 

Spies Aldagonda 'mong her flowers. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 145 

Then, with his spellbound magic steed, 

That he doth from his cavern lead, 

In tourney's list his foe defies, 

And with the princess swiftly flies ; 

Jacinthe's tears begin to flow 

And waters bubble up below, 

Or, trembling, touch her silver lute, 

At which all other sounds are mute, • 

And birds pause in their noon-day flight, 

To list with rapturous delight. 

The king and meddling notary. 

Pale cavalcades o'er the mountains fly; 

Statues with heads turned towards the wall, 

And Sanchez enter his treasured hall; 

The reign of Alahmar, the Good, 

Who his most grievous foes withstood 

By faith in righteous Allah's cause, ; 

Founding equitable laws ; 

Or Jusef Abel Hagias, 

Magnanimous but brief his days. 

But perished now, those ancient races, ' 

No longer hold their wonted places. 

Through shady bowers and sacred groves 

The famed hobgoblin no more roves. 

Dispeopled is the dreary plain : | 

Such scenes shall ne'er return again. j 



146 POEMS ON VATilOVS OCCASIONS. 

Ode on Viewing Liberty Bell at the 
World's Fair in 1893. 

Was it the sound of this deep-toned bell, 
Whose .voice the solemn stillness broke, 

Whose echoes as they rose and fell, 
The flame of freedom woke, 

Sacred in hearts that soon should feel 

The foeman's cruel steel? 

Those wild pulsations filled the land. 

And traveled on from sea to sea ; 
Rousing the patriotic band, , . • 

Few yet with power to free 
Themselves and all their broad domains 
From serfdom's galling chains. 

With God and Right to lead them on, . . • . 

Their hosts were multiplied who came 
From farm and field and fireside drawn .'. •. 

In Freedom's holy name, 
Till their own land they repossessed, . • • 

With peace and plenty blessed. 

Then in one peal of victory 

That swelled from out thy parched throat, 
Now that the lands across the sea ' ' 

Had learned to fear the note, 
Which now, alas! no more shall fall z^- 

From Independence Hall. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 147 

The ringer loudly rang, when lo ! 

The clapper struck the news to tell, 
Too powerful was the eager blow 

And cracked was Freedom's bell, 
Emitting notes though harsh and rude, 
With Freedom still imbued. 

And now forth from a thousand towers, 

Rings out a glad and joyous strain. 
No crimson tide now stains the flowers, 

That bloom on hill and plain. 
No more by conquest's breezes fanned, 
Our rich and prosperous land. 

But Justice, Peace — the kingly rule 

Of two twin brothers met to-day, 
Experience — valuable school — - 

Religion lights the way 
"With Wisdom's voice to overawe, | 

Teaching the perfect law. 

Telling in story and in song 

Of how the nation still is e-reat. 
But not by triumphs that belong ~ >f; 

To arms or warlike state, 
i^ut in the patriotic might 
That battles for the risrht. 



148 POEMS OX VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

A Dream. 



I had a friend, one such that not 
An enemy could find a blot, 
Or point a blemish in his name. 
Or breathe a single word of blame ; 
And then it came, that on a day, 
This friend he went from me away, 

I know not why he left me, Avhere 
He's gone, if vanished into air; 
(His spirit winged the upward road, 
That leads to Heaven and to God), 
Whether his corporeal mould 
Too fragile was to longer hold. 
His spirit pining to be free : 
I only know that he left me, 
And I was left to weep and sigli: 
A weary wretch and cheerless I. 

And now in visions of the night. 
When close about the spiritual sight, 
Are drawn the curtains that enfold 
The region of the upper world, 
This self-same friend again T see, 
The same that went away from me. 
Can it be true, is life a dream? 
That things in sleep so r^al seem, 
That we are ever sore distressed, 
x\nd full oft filled witli vague unrest, 
'I'o know the future as the past. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 149 

About for wider knowledge cast, 
And things forbidden to the scope, 
Of mortal eyes, and only hope 
That what we wish for, can be true, 
The certainty, if we only knew. 

I know not whether he so good 

A friend on earth half understood 

My forlorn state and came again, 

Release to bring from weary pain, 

Or longed again the scenes of yore. 

To tread where once his footsteps bore. 

The heat and burden of the day, 

Re-animating mortal clay; 

"Whether his earthly toils perplexed. 

And in some manner strangely vexed, 

His spirit in that newer clime. 

That made him long once more for time. 

Whether the joys his spirits misses. 

Drew him from his Eden -blisses. 

On scenes of earth again to roam, 

And find unchanged his mortal home ; 

He came and stood beside my bed, 

A spirit risen from the dead; 

I spoke to him, he uttered not 

A syllable, but as he read my thought, 

To know of his strange clime, he muttered 

Some strange words as my candle fluttered, 

So indistinct, of sense exempt, 

I know not, whether heard or dreamt : 

Then pointing upward, left my sight, 

-And vanished outward in the night. 



150 POEMS OX VARIOUS OCCASION S. 

Morning Song. 

Let earth in joyous raptures wake, 
And beasts and men their slumbers shake, 
For lo ! the sun is riding high, 
His golden chariot spans the sky. 

Awake to view the glowing morn, 
Aurora's beams, the heavens adorn, 
And you, ye sordid worldlings, too, 
Your moi'ning tasks again pursue. 



Evening Song. 

A sombre silence fills tlie sky, 
A waiting rapture clothes the earth 

And quietly doth nature's eye, 
Look from the heavens calmly forth. 

Now bow their heads as if in prayer. 
The limbs in that old forest gray, 

The sport of every gust of air. 

Drooping their leaves at close of day. 

And drowsy tinklings lull the folds 
Upon the hillside dark and steep : 

The quietude that nature holds, 
Saying: "There is no death but sleep." 

A whirr of insects in the wind, 

Of bats and owls mid shades forlorn, 
Or, yon thick growth of hedge behind, 
A rustle of silver-tasseled corn. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 151 

Until the woodland choir awakes 

To make an end of starry night, 
And like a flood the sunshine breaks 

Across the hills in waves of light. 

The Cloud 

The drops of dew which lightly filled 

The air at early morning, 
Almost invisibly distilled. 

Of rain gave ample warning. 
Thin foam-flakes into ether dropped 

Are wreathed in forms fantastic, 
And lightly moves the mass that propped 

Yon hill-top's brow monastic. 

Through turgid air, erelong so blue. 

Noon's sunlight no' more dances, 
But inky clouds of deepening hue 

Show how the. storm advances. 
Slow rolls the darkening cumulus, 

Then fast, and ever faster, 
It's waves roll black and ominous, 

A portent of disaster. 

The rugged hill the storm now shakes. 

We feel its living presence 
In every vapory \^^nd that break? 

The noontide's calm quiescence. 
Loud thunders roll. ?ome raindrops dash 

To earth in wild confusion. 
Then swift again the sunlight's flasli, 

The storm was a deluJon. 



152 POEMS OiV VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

The Warning. 

Two warriors met upon a plain, 
Where soon full many a crimson stain 
Should lie to mark the ensanguined spot, 
Where two strong hosts to death had fought. 
One was a warrior, tried and old: 
The other young, but firm and bold. 

"Brave not the fates," the older said, 
"Soon shall the field lie thick with dead, . 
For in my dreams of yesternight, 
When horrid visions came to fright, 
A corpse I saw you carried home. 
With muffled feet and funeral drum." 

"Your words are vain," the youth replied, 

' ' You are the tempter at my side, 

For go I will, the hero dies. 

And asks no nobler sacrifice," 

He said, and paused and heeded not : 

That night at home his corse was brouglit. 



Coquetry. 

SHE. 
"Here, dearest, will you take and keep this," 

He said, with his gift of the mom. 
At noon the rich present was sealed with a kiss, 

But the gift of all value is shorn, 
When I know there are others have shared in the bliss, 
the bliss, 
Wlien I see on another the ring I have worn, 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 153 

And feel the keen dart, which another may miss, 

To lodge in my bosom and quicken distress, 
And I, like a bird, bleeding and torn. 

HE. 
She's mocking me now with that proud look of her '3^ 

She smiles, but 'tis surely in scorn. 
Alas, for the hopes that her bright presence stirs, 

They perish as soon as they're born. 
My friends say to me : "She's false and she's "\ain, 

Why bow to the beauty, why fall at her feet ? 
Her armorous glances are frauds, 'tis quite plain. 
Her wiles, like the fowler's, are spread but to cheat. 
Of beaux she has a round dozen or more. 
Of lovers possesses at least half a score. 

She wants you but to make her circle complete^ 
While she laughs at your misery and smiles at your 
pain." 

I shall heed them, for life still is sweet; 

May. 

MAY. 

The wild bird is humming, ■ ; 

The woodlark is singing, 
The swallows are coming, 
The forests are ringing 
With the voices of ]May. ' i > 

AD nature is gladness, 
Her misery forgetting, 
The winter's dark sadness, 1 ' 'I 

Its gloom, the soul frettin^;, 
' Is vanished away. ' . . 



154 POEMS OX VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

The dark pall is lifted 

Of Winter's snow palace, 
And hither hath drifted 

With balm in her ehaliee 
The glorious May! 
For sorrow is vanished 

In Spring's golden hours, 
And grief and care banished 
By earth's fairest flowers 
Blooming to-day ! 



October. 

Summer days now nearly over, 

Touched the fields with crests of white ; 
In the meadow lands the clover 

Withers 'neath the frost's first blight. 

Through the woods the rabbit leaping. 
Seeks the swallow's empty nest; 

Rustling 'neath each footfall, sleeping. 
Flowers are folded soft to rest. 

In the distance faintly gleaming 
Rise the hills through purple mist ; 

All the earth seems like a dreaming 
God by heaven's breezes kissed. 

In the garden, thin and yellow, 
Lifts the sun-flower golden spires ; 

And across the distance mellow 
Gleam the forest's crimson fires. 



POEiMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 155 



Quatrains 

TIME. 

Of old sat Time upon his star-crowned heigh' 
A god infirm and with half-blinded sight, 
About his waist was girt a golden zone, 
A king with earth and heaven for his throne 

PEACE. 

Ood give us peace, let no war echoes sound 
In Europe, Asia, Africa or our own land, 
Or dim sea islands, 'till the world around 

In ties of human brotherhG.od are bound. 

( I . : . ■ , . . 

JOY. 

Sorrow may last the niglit, but cometh Joy 
At morn, as after storms the heavens smile. 

^'Depart," she says to grief and sore annoy, 
"Open thine heart and I will bide awhile." . 

SORROW. 

Sorrow, unbidden guest, oft sits alone, 

And fills the aching heart witli care and pain 

A messenger divine, striking dumb as stone, 
Only to lift to heaven's light again 



156 rOEMS OX VARIOUS OCCASIONS. [ 

PLEASURE. 

"Pleasure," said Youth, "I'd live with thee," 

"For me all knowledge tires:" 
"Begone, fond youth, but fools love me," 

She said: "The sage aspires." 

I 

VIRTUE. 

Oh, jewel, rarer than the price 

Of gold or rubies, will aught suffice 

To chain to earth thy virgin face, 

Keep ever pure thy blameless grace. 

KNOWLEDGE. 

Knowledge, like the kings of old, 
Scattereth rubies, pearls and gold; 
Yet who among all these gifts doth find 
One that's suited to his mind! 

WISDO.M. 

Wisdom that arc less loved of mortal men 
Than gods, thou livest beyond human ken, 
And only deign 'st to come to earth from heaven, 
To those who think in vain they've toiled and 
striven. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 357 



The Maid of Lepanto. 

Prom dark Lepanto 's gloomy height, 

The mists of morning lightly pass, 
As far below in tranquil light, 

The bay shines like a looking-glass. 
A thousand drops of emerald spray 

Zephyr bears to fairy bowers, 
Wliose rising vapors melt away. 

And then descend in genial showers. 

What form is that upon the rock. 

Which beetles o'er the gleaming wave. 
And well she felt and feared the shock. 

But paused not long above her grave. 
But one wild leap and all was o'er, 

The waves drowned her despairing cry, 
The turgid ocean's sullen roar 

Told never tale of treachery. 

Oh, maiden, with the pale cold brow. 

Why fledd'st thou on thy wedding morn? 
Thy lover clasps thy bosom now, 

Too soon to be from his presence torn. 
The guests are met, the feast is set. 

Alas ! the feast is but for one ! 
Jleturn, thy lover waits thee yet. 

But thou fliest swifter than the sun. 

No earthly lover cravest thou, 

Thou'rt more in love with cheerful death. 
Ah, maiden fair, on thy pale brow. 
Already thou feel'st his icy breath. 



158 POEMS Oy VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

But yesternight, by the pale moonlight, 
Thou didst hie over bog and stone. 
And on that rock thy faith didst plight 
To another lover and him alone. 

Your plighted troth you would have kept. 

But a cruel father intervened. 
In vain he plead, in vain you wept. 

Yet well your purpose inly screened. 
Tlie fair morn came, the bridegroom brought. 

You spoke but once and left the place; 
In vain, both high and low, they sought, 
Then weary with hunting forbore the chase- 

'Twas moonlight on Lepanto's height. 

Two fishermen drag to shore their net : 
Though steadily struggles each toiling wight, 

A female. form, with hair of jet. 
Was all that they brought, 'twas the lady dead t 

"Bury her deep down in the sand. 
For ^he is a stranger here," they said, 

"A stranger in an alien lana." 

And, now, when on lover's moonstruck state, 

The course of true love turns awry, 
"Remem])er the ]\laid of Lepanto's fate," 

They say, and for her heave a sigh. 
And when the tie they would stronger make 

By parents' arts is asunder riven. 
They gaze, but leap not in tliat lake, 

And trust their love to time and lieaven. 



POEMS OX VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 159 

But some say that on dark Summer eves 

A spirit hovers o'.er the water, 
Fair as an houri, 'mid the leaves, 

Or ocean's unrivalled daughter. 
And they aver thiat 'tis the Maid, 

Though her body in the sand reposes, 
Who, in fresh loveliness arrayed, ; 

Sits cro\^ned amid a bower of roses 

Some say, who walks beside that strciam 

In stormy^weather may discover. 
Lost mid the pebbles' silvery gleam. 

The footsteps of her spirit lover. 
On dark Lepanto's gloomy height. 

The genius of despair is wroken, 
Whene'er, as on that fateful night. 

Hearts fond. as their's for love have broken. 



Transmigration. 

An angel, in a roving fit. 

Vouchsafed one named Peter Pye 
Upon the horned moon to sit. 

There set in the midst of heaven's eye, 
Pie viewed on earth the processes, 
Of which before he could but guess. 

Simple the boon that Pviter craved : 
''Lord grant that I, even Peter Pye, 

Thy humble servant, may be saved. 
In thy good time, when I shall die. 

But, first from the moon I would behokl, 

Thy wondrous works, Lord, unrolled " 



160 POEMS ON VABIOUS OCCASIONS. 

The angel heard his small request, 
And swift to earth his chariot raced. 

His coursers neither pause nor rest, 
Till Peter in due time is placed 

Upon the crescent moon's thin edge, 

That hangs in heaven like a golden wedge. 

"Wlien Peter his eyes did downward cast, 

He saw as plain as might appear, 
Each kingdom, country, first and last, 

Each line, each zone, each hemisphere, 
Poland and China, Greece and Rome, 
He even saw his former home. 

He saw — for the sight was to him given. 

The earth in majesty arrayed : 
The tranquil sun in serene heaven, 

In splendor, alternate light and shade. 
All these on Peter's vision broke, '^ 

And nnobscured by mist or smoke. '^ 



He saw the mighty Alps arise, 
Majestic in their grand repose ; 

The palm tree wave 'neath sultry skies. 
And %Adnter wrap the poles in snows. 

Each lake, each river, gulf and sea, 

"Were all as plain as plain could be. 

Earth's multitudinous scenes present 

A two-fold grandeur to his sight. 
For, as on earth his eyes he bent. 

He saw the world half day, half night, 
"Where rivers run, or oceans roll, 
He viewed the earth from pole to pole. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 161 

He saw Sahara's desert sand, 

The Dead Sea yield its bitter fruit, 
He viewed what was the Promised Land, 

Where Eden had its primal root. 
'Tis said he saw, more strange than these. 
The Gardens of the Ilesperides. 

All things that lived before as myth, ■ 

Or fable were now as plain as day. 
Strong Hercules he journeyed with. 

Now stretched across the Milky Way, 
When he performed his wondrous works, 
Or Solyman when lie battled with his Tui'ks. 

More wondrous on liis vision broke, 

The hidden life of plants and trees : 
He saw the sap rise in the oak. 

The fir yield juice for ants and bees ; 
What to man before was ne'er revealed, 
AVas now to him a book unsealed. 

He saw all animals of earth, " ** 

Elephant to gazelle with silvery feet, 
From their natural jungles come forth, 

Lion and tiger, frog and newt. 
All hidden monsters of the deep, 
From beasts that run to snakes that cre('i>. 

And animals and men he saw, | ^ 

Waging on each perpetual strife : 
Creation one devouring maw; 

The multitudinous life 
Of all things feed upon its brother, 
Alas, that none such strife could smotlici ! 



162 POEMS OX VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

lie saw the leopard paint his spots, 
The zebra don his striped hide. 
Until lie thought— how vain his thoughts, 

In his new knowledge dignified. 
Such wonders in his mind's small scope, 

That he felt wiser than the Pope. 

For things the learned had tried to find 

For ages, philosophers of old, 
Were all revealed till Peter's mind 

Was stuffed and crammed, more could not hold. 
When he returned, his journey through, 

Men soon should learn how much he knew. 

He sat an earth-god on his throne, 

Like Plato or Archimedes, 
Or, he that in the desert lone, 

Saw the ladder reaching to the skies. 
In winter, summer, frost or heat. 

There Peter kept his tranquil seat. 

But weary of all earthly things, 

Peter above now bends his gaze, 
To view those spirits that on bright wings 

Bask ever in heaven's unchanging rays. 
"Lord, grant a sight of heaven give, 

That I a wiser man may live." 

No peace of mind did Peter know. 

Now he had probed earth's mysteries, 
And tiring of gazing at things below. 

Till he into the secret pries. 
Of those fair forms tliat bow and uod 
In homage about tlu' throne of God. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 163 

Whereat the angel wroth appears 

That his too curious mind is bent 
To see and hear what by heavenly ears 

And eyes can but be seen and heard, 
Swift hurls him down with ruthless hand, 
And Peter obeys the stern command. 

But first he caused Luna fair 

To pass in to a dark eclip', 
When Peter finding no resting there, 

Perforce must slide off at its tip, 
And now on earth a common man, 
Presumes no more heaven's works to scan. 

This moral, reader, find applied. 

When mortal men with feeble strength, 

Would strive for lore to man denied, 
That they must perish at length. 

Or else with their shortcomings fail, 

As Peter failed — so ends my tale. 



Time, Fate and Chance. 

Three travelers met upon a road, 

(Their names were Time and Fate and Chance), 
That onward led to the abode 

Of plastic Circumstance. 
And one was wizened, wan and old, 
But two were stout and bold. 

Said Time, the eldest, whose right hand 

Grasped firm the scythe of magic power, 
While in his left the glowing sand 
Marked off the trembling hour: 



164 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

"Since fortune's brought us face to face, 

Appointing date and meeting place, 
Now, strangers, I propose that we 
Provide a banquet for the three." 

No sooner said, than quick as wink, 

To this the company all agreed. 
A bounteous feast of meat and drink 

Was magically spread. 
And on the ground the board is set, 
Round which the guests are met. 

And soon the crowd with merry voice. 

Awoke the echoes far and wide ; 
Old Time, he bade them all rejoice. 

And banish care on every side. 
When they at last the wine did reach, 
He quaffed a glass to each. 

A bumper first he pledged to Chance, 

And then to Fate his cup did fill. 
The beaded bubbles wink and dance. 

The merry voices are not still, 
And as each foaming cup goes round. 
Laughter and talk make joyful sound. 

Then upspake Time : "No churl am I, 

And so a forfeit I resign 
To one of our brave company, 

A cask of precious wine, 
Who will the story best relate 
What last befell or Chance or Pate." 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 165 

** Beside the lake at early mom, 

I met a maiden passing fair, 
Gold ringlets did her brows adorn. 

Her step was light as air. 
And then, ' ' said Chance, ' ' Ah ! woe to tell, 
She in the water fell." 

'*Yet, hear the end," for ere she drowned, 

"I caused a traveller passing by, 
To quickly seize and at one bound. 

When he had heard her cry. 
To rescue from a watery grave. 
Thus I a life did save." 

' * Last night, ' ' ^aid Fate, ' ' a battle raged, 
I stood and watched each sabre thrust, 

And as the conflict fierce was waged. 
Saw thousands bite the dust. 

But one in pride of youth arrayed, 

Stood firm and undismayed." 

"I wept full sore aught should betide. 
And yet I'd marked him for my own. 

I caused a javelin pierce his side, ' 

I heard his dying groan. 

No kindly hand did him befriend, 

Thus I a life did end." 

Said Time, "All things are in my hands. 

For me the sun and moon do shine. 
And now my forfeit I demand, 

For you and all are mine. 



1^6 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

In me did Chance the maiden save, 
The warrior find a grave." 



In a Flower Garden. 

Lilies, roses, heliotropes, all in gay profusion, 
Decking with their vernal blooms the festive 
lap of May; 
Yellows, reds and violets, mingled in confusion, 
Greet my view as through the scented greenery 
I stray. 

Lemon, orange, • citron trees, growing all together. 
Underneath their spreading boughs a net of 
trailing vines; 
They are blooming everywhere, no matter what the 
weather. 
How cold doth blow the wind outside or how hot 
the sun shines. 

Here will I rest awhile, flowers are a treasure; 

There are no blooms on earth surely like these, 
Plucking wild flowers in Summer is a rare 

pleasure. 
But in a wintry Spring how odd, when no one sees. 

Yonder is a tree the gardener is tending. 

Like a tender shrub or a delicate spring shoot, 

Whose overladen boughs to earth are fairly 
bending 
With their weight of luscious and golden fruit. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 167 

Underneath its spreading boughs in the twilight 
glory, 

Bathing all the place in a gold and purple glow^ 
Sit two happy lovers, telling o'er the story, 

The old, old story, that was old long ago, 

So I glide in unespied, for love is to aught else 
unseeing ; 
It surely were a place for lovers most meet, 
Not in a fairer spot might Psyche, from Love's^ 
, , , , footsteps fleetly fleeing. 
Pause to gather her a chaplet of flowers sweet. 

So I watched the happy lovers till the daylight 
dying 
Warned me that the hours were passing all too 
soon, 
Then I thought of how when Winter came and the 
year was a-dying 
Would perish the bright blossoms and the flow- 
ers of June. 

Thus, mused I, passeth love, like every fond 
illusion 
That is bom in Summer and lives but on a 
fine day; 
How many happy sights and how many a vain " 
delusion, 
Greet my view as through the scented greenery 
I stray. 



168 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 



Ballad of Mary Ann. 

Oh, Mary Ann! My Mary Ann, 

Let's be again a-coortin; 
Though thirty year's have come an' gone 

Since we were wed for soortin ; 
But, still, through sunshine an' through shade, 

Through bright or stormy weather, 
We've kept blithe hearts since you an' me 

The parson joined together. 

Then up the hill and down the hill. 

We'll wander friend and lover, 
Huntin' for the sprig of mint 

Or for the four-leaved clover; 
An' we'll live o'er again the scenes 

When our youthful love began; 
I'll still be plain John Myers, 

An' you just Mary Ann! 

Though many a friend that at our door, 

We met with hearty greeting, 
^ow rests upon the silent shore, 

In heaven his comrades meeting; 
Yet others live the place to fill 
Of those of life's fresh summer, 
An' with a smile of gladness still 

We'll welcome each new-comer. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. IG* 

We'll walk back to the old frame church, 

This quiet afternoon, 
While birds are singing in the trees 
A blithesome summer tune ; 
An' sit upon the dusty steps, 

Once trod by Parson Brown, 
An' hear again his sleepy choir, 

The best in all the town. 

Or to the schoolhouse on the hill. 

Perhaps our steps will wander, 
Where we full many a lesson learned 

We have not ceased to ponder; 
Almost we see Tom an' Bill Jones, 

That were kept in at play-time ; 
You're sixteen yet, I twenty-four, 

'Tis life's delicious May- time. 

Then Mary Ann! My Mary Ann, 

Let's be again a-coortin; 
Though thirty years are .past an' gone 

Since we were wed for soortin ; 
But, still, through sunshine and through shade^ 

An' storms that followed after, 
We've kept light hearts and undismayed 

With room for song and laughter. 

Then up the hill and down the hill. 

We'll wander, friend and lover, 
Hunting for the sprig of mint, 

Or for the four-leaved clover, 



170 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

An' we'll live o'er again the scenes, 

Wlien youthful love began, 
I'll still be plain John Myers, 

An' you just Mary Ann. 



Courtship on the Bicycle. 

There they come, Maria, a-whirrin' an' whizzin*, 

An' dancin' like mad right over the rough 
stones ; 
That feller in the jacket has fallen off his'n. 

Look out, young feller, fer broken bones. 
He's talkin' peert to the lady ridin', 

A leetle too fast to suit the law. 
Why, I'll be cussed, ef he aint a-slidin' 

Smack into the gutter right agen his jaw. 

Now he's up agen. Well I'd call that risky 

To ride them wheels, but they think it nice 
I 'spose for he's at it agen ez frisky 

Ez a young kitten runnin' after mice; 
He'll ketch up bime-by. Now, stan' a leetle 

Off'n the road, down in the grass. 
Why he's a-movin' slower an' a beetle. 

Is he goin' to stop? We'll let 'em pass. 

He's talkin' to the one that wears a bloomer, 
I guess they call it — looks like a balloon. 

His costume, well, if it aint a loomer, 
With his coat that was pulled a trifle too soon; 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 171 

They're courtin' though ez sure ez my name's 
Jeremiah. 

Whoever heerd tell of sparkin' on wheels; 
Twar'nt that way we did it, Maria, 

A-spinnin' our yarns over the spools an' reels. 

He's a-makin' love, though, in ol' time fashion. 

Ef we'll be right smart mebbe we can hear 
What he's a-sayin', the words of passion, 

He's a-whisperin' into the lady's ear; 
Will she be his'n? Well, now, I reckon, 

This is ez goodez a circus show ; 
She'll be the star that'll shine an' beckon 

Acrost his path — Is it yes or no? 

Ef he'd only talk a leetle plainer. 

An' not so mumbly, mebbe I could tell. 
His voice 't seems wuz run through a strainer, 

Fer it's thick ez mush an' choked up — Well, 
Will she be his — thought, I heerd the answer. 

This college brogue's hard to understan'. 
Heerd "love till death," an' I guess she'll 
chance 'er. 

So, now, let's go an' giv'm our han'. 



172 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

A JV^odern Version of Little Red Riding- 
hood. 

Oh, maid so fair, 
And debonaire, 

All lovely as thou art; 
Now comes a time, 
Forsooth a -crime, 

When thou and I must part. 

The wolf I ween, 
With teeth as keen 

And sharp as polished dart, 
An hour hath stood, 
In this dark wood. 

To terrify your heart. 

And though I prize, 
In worldly wise, 

Your beauty and your pelf. 
And would risk all 
I have, though small. 

To save you, but myself. 

Yet what were wealth. 
When minus health, 

An arm or leg, I know. 
For you I see 
Safe in the tree, 

The wolf and me below. 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 173 

And no fire-arm, 
To do him harm, 

Or pistol at my side, 
Have I, or stock 
Of wood, or rock 

To kill and claim my bride. 

And when the beast 
Hath made a feast 

Of me and doth devour, 
He'll wait for you. 
What will you do, 

When he hath you in his power. 

Then spake the maid, 
^'Be not afraid," 

She to her lover said, 
^'Though weary-eyed, 
I've watched and sighed. 

And wept full oft and prayed." 

^ * Speak soft and low 
To him, I know 

The creature will go away. 
And in the hour 
That he hath gone 

Will be our bridal day." 

"Come, wolfie, dear. 
To me 'tis clear," 

He said, ''you've stayed too long. 
Although you wait, ■ 

With stealthy gait. 

To work this creature wrong. " 



174 POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 

"Go, scamper off, 
Your head to doff, 

In yonder brook so clear. 
Beyond you'll find 
More of your kind. 

While I rescue the maiden here." 

Then with light feet. 
As rabbit fleet, 

He plunges in the stream. 
His shaggy mane, 
Like polished stone. 

Through silvery waters gleam. 

Now, said the swain. 
Since 'tis quite plain 

That he hath left to me. 
This maid so fair. 
And debonaire. 

Then I'll saw down the tree. 

"Oh," cried the maid, 
"I'm sore afraid, 

All here in this lone wood; 
For when doth fall, 
The tree and all, 
Who'll save poor Riding-hood?" 

"My limbs are strong. 
And stout and long," 
Her lover said, "my arm 



POEMS ON VARIOUS OCCASIONS. 175 

And I will wateh 
You and I'll catch 

And save you from all harm." 

Then spake the maid, 
"I am afraid, 

You think but of my pelf." 
_"No," said the youth, 
"In very truth, 

I only prize yourself." 

So now is told 
The story old. 

In modern verse "impearled. " 
"But yet the lay 
Is false," you say. 

So is it with the world! 



Epitaph on the Death of a Young Cat. 

Kitten, perished in your bloom. 

This your only trophy, 
That I should write upon your tomb, 

This brief eat-a-strophe. 
No more to lick your paws to lave 

And wipe your snow-white face. 
Rest quiet in your little grave, 

Bequies — cat in pace. 



Ill— The Light of Life: 
A Medley. 

1889. 



Nothing of him that doth fade, 
But doth suffer a sea-change 
Into something rich and strange. 

— Ariels' Song in Tempest. 



Note I. — A man who has drunk deep of the fountains of 
knowledge, but is still unable to comprehend the mystery of 
existence, stands alone on the seashore and compares his life 
to a voyage on an unknown sea led by the stars of Faith and 
Hope. (4) He laments that while the earth renews itself with 
each succeeding spring, y«t his days, once past, never return 
to him again, and that the "Melodious Season of Youth," 
when gone, is gone forever; but he is comforted by the reflec- 
tion that nothing of real worth is ever entirely lost. In this 
and the succeeding divisions of the poem he invokes the forces 
and powers of nature for light and guidance which, although 
they are represented as sympathizing with him, yet can afford 
him no relief. 



THE LIGHT OF LIFE. 177 

II. Since life seems to be nothing but a fruitless strug- 
gle, and the knowledge of the future is involved in doubt, 
he exhorts himself to enjoy the pleasures of the world. 

III. This epode contains an invocation to the Spirit 
of Truth for light on the mysteries of the future, but all 
the aid it can afford him is from the past, and he listens to 
thethe "Voices from Eternity," not of the mori-bund world, 
but the testimony of the belief of the men of all ages in the 
immortality of a life beyond the present. 

IV. Wearied with speculation, he invites the Spirit of 
Sleep to come and cover him with the mantle of oblivion. 

. V. He contrasts the brief and uncertain period of his 
earthly existence with "the imperial palace whence he came," 
in which the platonic idea of pre-existence is implied and 
at last enters the "port of peace," the assurance that since 
the soul had its existence prior to this life and is of divine 
origin, it will outlast the presnt, and can never perish, ever 
striving in the future world to attain fuller perfection and 
development.* 



• When returning unto herself, the Soul reflects then she 
passes into the realm of purity and eternity and immortality, 
and unchangeableness, which are her kindred, and with them 
she ever lives and is not let or hindered. There she ceases 
from her erring ways, and being in communion with the 
unchanging is unchanging. And this state of the Soul is 
called Wisdom. — Phaedo. 



THE LIGHT OF LIFE: A MEDLEY. 

I. 

I stood on the shore while the winds were swept 

And the seas and the skies grew a tempest of black ; 
First the waters lapped low on the crag where they 
crept, 
Then rose in long billows across their lone track. 
**Thou art greater, Sea, than aught besides," 

I said, "But art less than a grain of life; 
For Man o'er thy bosom triumphantly rides 

And his ships do but sport in the flood of thy 
strife. ' ' 
Proud ruler of storms, though he be yet alone, 
Is he more or less than a stick or a stone, 
To be tossed or be sunk at the beck of the wave. 
While thou weavest rich shells for the mariner's 

grave ? 
The rocks and the reefs are the bounds of th;g coast 
And I dread to be on that strange sea lost! 

2. 
Life, thou hast a sea as vast and strange, 

And its bounds are met in the limitless deeps. 
Where the march of the Morning Star showeth no 
change. 
And the far planet drinks from his Sun as he 
sweeps. 
The monarchs of earth make a crown for thy head, 
But a king thou dost rule in a realm of thy own : 



THE LIGHT OF LIFE. 179 

Thou countest the living, thou numberest the dead. 

And thy brother, Death, rules by thy side on thy 
throne. 
And man can but sit at thy outermost gate: 
He may charm all his foes, but he can not charm fate ; 
Tho* he hope by the chant of an unknown hymn 
To circle the shadows that compass him dim, 
A murky futurity hides from his eyes 
The wrath of his heavens, and the wreck of his skies ! 
Life's rocks and its reefs are the bounds of thy coast, 
And I dread to be on thy strange sea lost ! 

3. 
I stood where the light met the spirits of dark 

In the dim, quiv'ring twilight, at evening's long 
close. 
And the glimpse of the day grew as wierd as a spark 

As the starry spheres, robed in his splendors, arose ; 
Then — how, now I know not — to me they did lend 

A wisdom my heart had found alien thus far: 
To aid or to thwart us heaven's brightest beams bend, 

And our face is re-lit in the face of a star. 
Tyrants, here is a Scepter even you can not break! 
Kings, here is a kingdom you never will shake i 
Soul, here is one Soul that outshineth thine, 
And the sum of all Ruling Powers, endless, divine, 
Thro' the mystic Orion and Pleiades seven 
Guides this tough rocky earth 'twixt the sun and the 

Heaven ; 
Time, I pray that the light be not false on thy coast : 
I dread there to wander, deserted and lost ! 

*Canst thou hind the sweet influnces of Pleiades, or loose 
the bands of Orion. — Job. 



180 THE LIGHT OF LIFE. 

There are some that say "mourn," and are others 

"rejoice"; 



Tho ' my heart were weighed down by a stone, they 
cry, "sing." 
the strength of the Summer is snatched from its 
voice, 

And its icy cold touch strikes a desolate string. 
melodious season, departed so soon? 

(Joy passed is so rich we can tell not its worth; 
The dew on the meadow, the clouds on the noon 

But show how intrinsically sweet is this earth) 
days of days gone, ! for evermore gone ! 
Your beauties and graces I shall ne'er gaze upon! 

The mist changed to vapor, the vapor to rain, 
Returns to replenish its earth-force again, 
The dew on the grass and the fog on the river 
Shall vanish away, but not quite forever: 
Anon will come a bright spirit of air, 
When lo ! how it shows its allegiance there I 
To dance on the lips of a broad summer sea 
Or to give to sea-ripples their light melody ; 
On the first breathed incense of morning to fly 
To add to the blue or jet light of love's eye: 
But day of days gone, forevermore gone, 
Your beauties and graces I shall ne'er gaze upon. 

The leaves by cold Winter are struck from the tree, 
But gay in the spring it doth bloom merrily; 
The voice of the blue-bird is hushed in the meadow. 
Pull soon he will rise swift to outfly his shadow, 



THE CUBAN WAR. 181 

The ear in the shock and the corn in the ear 
Strong food of man, doth in its season appear. 
And roses and lilies strew their pinks and their pearls 
Where bright fairies step and the feet of fair girls ; 
All flowers and all fruits turn to ashes and mould ; 
And nature grows young while the earth's growing 

old— 
But day of days gone, 0, for evermore gone. 
Your beauties and graces I shall ne'er gaze upon. 
The creatures of fashion, we work and we play, 
And to-morrow we finish the task of to-day. 
One day will have triumphs but the next comes to 

damp 
Our joy: leaves a broad, ineffaceable stamp. 
The ages must bring us our recompense due 
In measures the Heavens must weigh and make irue ! 
In this light none may waver, from this eye naught 

can pass. 
From the blue of the sky to the green of the grass; 
And nothing is lost, from the gem to the spark — 

here is sweet breath for the soul that is dark. 
A dim light I see stretched across a long coast, 

1 shall no longer be on that wild sea lost! j 

•II 

Sing a song of Life today ; 

Leave Death to the slavish beast; 
How much are we more than they? 

Let us drink and let us feast. 

Sing a song of Mirth to-day; 

Bid the wreathed head come smile. 
Fools and cowards that they say : 

"Wait the merry after- while. " 



182 TEE LIGHT OF LIFE. 

Sing a song of Love to-day; 

Fling the rose and myrtle bloom 
O'er young brows to fright away 

Demon from the hollow tomb! 

Sing a song of Rest to-day; 

Strife bid cease, Toil no more be 
A pale spectre, cold and gray, 

In a soul no longer free. 

Sing a song of Life to-day; 

Leave Death to the slavish beast; 
How much are we more than they? 

Let us drink and let us feast ! 

III. 

Cast upon this barren shore, 

Stained by weather, toil and travel, 

How know we what lies before, 
Who this mystery will unravel? 

Breath of Heaven grant us more, 
"We may tread on golden gravel: 

Spurning blindly at our feet. 

What the world might hold most sweet 1 

Yet, as parting shadows lift. 

Know we some fair f.tar hath found us 
And, on favoring gales adrift. 

Shatters incense all around us. 
Then not vainly seek to rift 

Spell no mortal hand hath bound ns; 

]\Iadly beating these strong bara, 

Gazing vacant on the stars I 



THE LIGHT OF LIFE. 183 

Stars which rise no more to set, 

Going, gone, but failing never ! 
Orbs no human eye hath met 

Basking in their gleams forever! 
More hath Truth not told us yet, 

Subtlest chain no hand may sever ; 
Gordion knot of all the powers, 
Still may bind their souls to ours. 

Soul of Truth, of Life and Light, 
Thou art, like the worlds, immortal, 

And the dim old face of night 
Lightens near thy radiant portal! 

Prom the ancient azure height. 
Never, never trod of mortal, 

Mists of darkness fly away. 

As the dusk flies from the day! 

More than Wisdom of the Years 

Bold, upon thy brow is burning! 
Thou sit'st crowned, a hundred spheres 

Roll beneath thy feet's cold spurning! 
Time's broad wheel nor shades nor sears 

Thy strong visage, calm as morning ! 
Wrinkled ages pass thee by — 
Thee it is not given to die I 

Ancient Truth, full-orbed, to-day. 

Tell us, tell us of to-morrow! 
Shall we never pass away? 

Flit we here like shapes of sorrow ? 
As the rainbow from the ray, 

So from some hid fountain borrow 



184 THE LIGHT OF LIFE. 

Living light, which, thence returned, 
Ejqows not in whose soul it burned f 

Do we wake or do we sleep? 
Or are living, or are dreaming ? 
Cruel pangs may light and keep 

Watch-fire by the heart's pale gleaming, 
And chili streams may withering creep, 

'Neath this fair-masked outward seeming. 
Heaven and earth we should not know, 
If Fate had not willed it so. 

Faith is much^ but is not all; 
Trusting sweet but sweeter knowing, 
■Could we know, or hear while fall 

Heavenly strains on dull ears flowing. 
List, it is for us they call; 

Or are coming or are going — 
Voices from eternity : 
Are and were and yet shall be ! 

IV. 
Come ye low winds that blow 

O'er mountain and city and coast; 
Will ye let me ride with ye, 
Shaken and tempest-tossed? 
I would I could for a moment be 

Not myself, but a being lost — 
Lost on thy wild-blown breezes free- 
Freer than life loved most. 

Draw thou nigh, Sea that high 

Dashest thy broken foam! 
The sea-gulls cry, but their notes will die 
Soon, when they reach their home ; 



TEE LIGHT OF LIFE. 185 

Their home, not mine, that points to the sky 

In spires from a spiry dome; 
! That I might thitherward fly — 

I would dwell where no dangers come. 

Drop thou deep slumb 'rous Sleep ! 

Mine eyes wax heavy and dim ; 
But hold and steep, where thy bare winds sweep 

And thy shadows grow ghastly and grim 
Outstretches a gulf and my heart fears to leap 

And my foot, chill-crossed on its brim. 
Stands poised. Not Death, but thou, Sleep! 

Tho' thou art a brother to him. 
Bear me away, Light of Day, 

On your wings that are lit by the sun, 
Far better it were to conquer there, 

Tho' a million perils run, 
Than to grasp at a wreath that is cold and bare. 

Or a world ignobly won. 
• To grind out my grist from the clods of care, 

And to faint when the day is done. 

Were this vain world into chaos hurled. 

From the wreck which lies shattered and vast, 
I should ask for naught, yet a single thought 

Tho' clouds may our skies o'ercast, 
Know, never a stain of this earth may blot, 

Nor breath of the heavens blast 
This Soul of ethereal texture wrought — 

It will live when the worlds are passed. 

Let them wander away where the heaven 's day 

Faints and fades in a sphereless night, 
Till, one by one, to the outermost sun 



186 THE LIGHT OF LIFE. 

Falls before the long finger of blight, 
Says the soul, "They do fret away life and are 
done, 

They are touched by a mightier might 
And they fail, but my race is just begun, 

Where I am is Life and Light." 

V. 

Soul, once in a realm that was fairer than this 
Thou didst rule on a great purple throne. 

Some power hath disputed and warred with thy bliss : 
Of late is thy genius o'erthrown, 

Companion of devils and mate to the beast, 

Thou hold'st a famine, thou countest a feast; 
Thy heart is not theirs nor thy own. 

Soul, tell me of purple thrones, weary of life 

I do faint on this vain earth; 
Gay wind-shells and husks laugh when- Death is 
most rife, 

At a funeral make a loud mirth, 
I pine for the shadowless fountains of Light 
To chasten earth's shadows to figures that bright 

Shine a crown of all beauty and worth. 

Soul, what splendid treasures were poured at thy 
feet — 
Frankincense and myrrh and heart 's-ease! 
Hold'st earth's dust more rich than the olive, more 
sweet 
Than the fruits of all beautiful trees? 
Hast so soon forgotten thine ancient large home? 
Fair spirits will welcome thee when thou art come ; 
enter the port of thy peace. 



IV. — Poems Relating to 

the Spanish and 

Cuban War. 

1898. 



Perish shall all which takes 
From Labor 's board and can : 

Perish shall all which makes 
A Spaniel of the Mani 

— Whittter. 

Weak is his tower with pampering wealth, 

In brief alliance, 
Who spurns great Justice' altar dread 

With damned defiance; 
Him the deep hell shall claim and shame 

His vain reliance. 

. — Aeschylus' Agamemnon. 



PREFATORY NOTE. 

In the original preface to this small volume, which was 
written before the destruction o'f the U. S. battleship "Maine," 
and the declaration of war, following shortly after this event, 
the author took occasion to allude to certain matters which 
have since become, officially, the sentiments of the American 
people. It will therefore only be necessary to make such 
extracts from it as will serve to render the meaning intelli- 
gible. 



188 POEMS RELATING TO 

In these Poems (which, with the exception of those refer- 
ring to more recent events), were written last year, the 
Author has aimed to give expression to a sentiment present, 
not only in isolated communities, but every section of thi» 
great country. The conduct of Spain towards Cuba has 
aroused the strongest resentment and condemnation, not only 
of America, but of the civilized world. War at best cruel 
and relentless, has been rendered several fold more terrible, 
being wag'^d with more than barbaric fury. It has smitten 
the innocent, and scattered blood upon the threshold of almost 
every home. Inhumanities unworthy of the sixteenth century 
have been perpetrated at our very doors. The author has not 
aimed at rhetorical display. The simple truth, devoid of the 
graces of language and outward ornamentation, is sufficiently 
impressive. Conscious that his feeble efforts may have no wide 
influence, he, nevertheless, may be permitted to express the 
hope that this oppressed country, whose lyre is tuneless, but 
whose sun of liberty has not yet set, may soon obtain its free- 
dom, or that the intervention of other and more friendly pow- 
ers may speedily terminate what must always be regarded 
as one of the darkest stains upon the pages of history. 
January 13, 1898. 

Since this occurrence, however, the rapid progress of recent 
events has served to render the above language no longer appli- 
cable to existing conditions. The poems now, therefore, only 
aptly describe scenes happily passing away. The triumphs of 
the American navy at Manila and Santiago are upon every- 
body's tongue. Not only has "The INIaine" been "avenged" 
in a glorious manner, but an oppressed people has been freed 
from the yoke of bondage (for which let us give thanks), the 
terms of peace accepted by Spain vouchsafing to the island 
tranquility, if not absolute independence. 

"Yet Freedom! yet, thy banner torn but flying, 
Streams like the thunder-storm against the wind; 
Thy trumpet- voice though broken now and dying, I 
The loudest still the tempest leaves behind." 
WiNCHESTEB, Ohio, Aug. 16, 1898. 



THE CUBAN WAR. 189 




COMMODORE SCHLEY'S FLAGSHIP, "THE BROOKLYN.' 



Cuba's Appeal. 

Cuba, fair isle, that the hand of the Spaniard 

In rage is uplifted to smite from the seas, 
If power yet be thine to drive back the oppressor, 

Fling liberty's banner again to the breeze; 
Let its broad flag unfolding, encompass the nation, 
And cheer the brave armies from mountain and 
plain — 
They are coming, enrolled 'neath the banner of 
Freedom ; 
They are coming with vengeance to wreak for the 
slain ! 



190 POEMS RELATING TO 

Cuba, thou beautiful Queen of the Antilles, 

Where once Freedom's armies so gallantly stood. 
How darkened by war are thy lovely plantations, 

How red are thy fields with thy patriot's blood! 
For the soldier's dread hand there has wrought 
desolation, 

And murder and slaughter his musket and sword; 
And the cries and the groans of the wounded and 
dying 

Have risen in might to the ears of the Lord. 

From town and from city, from village and hamlet, 

From hovel and prison, from palace and cot; 
From every loved spot where once roamed thy brave 
warriors ; 
From every dark place where the pillage was 
wrought ; 
From the mill and the storehouse and marts of the 
nation ; 
From the fields where thy patriot armies have trod, 
The wails of thy dying have risen to heaven. 
The cries of thy ravished ascended to God. 

For vengeance they call, for their women and chil- 
dren 

That the red hand of carnage hath ruthlessly slain ; 
For vengeance calls out each foul blot on the island ; 

For vengeance aloud calls out each bloody plain. 
The world they appeal to as friends and as neighbors, 

To each favored land in each ocean and sea, 
But chiefly to us as the nation of freedom, 

The land of the brave and the home of the free. 



THE CUBAN WAR. 191 

Shall we pass unheeded the call of our brothers, 

Who 've battled so nobly for home and for right, 
Who cherish the deeds of our patriot fathers 

And the freedom they won us in each bloody fighfct 
Let not the appeal be in vain, may a message 

Of friendship be sent from the home of the brave; 
That freedom may crown all the patriot armies — 

The freedom to us that our forefathers gave. 



Sonnet: Cuba, 

Cuba, torn, weak and trembling as thou art. 
The Bird of Prey hath caught within his clutch; 
Whom we thy neighbors had not dared to touch, 

Plundered and starved and ravaged at thy heart. 
(Though strongly suffering — irony of scorn — 
Wounds too grievous in patience to be borne, 

And all th' accursed Spaniard made thee feel). 

Though multiplied by twice ten thousand wrongs, 
Though each deep wound be made to bleed again, 
It would not curb the valor of thy men; 

Thy sufferings to time and earth belong, 

Thy injury only heaven can efface; 

'Mong nations give to thee thy rightful place. 



Cuba's Call. 

Hear ye our brothers calling 

To us in the land of the free? 
Their necks Spain's yoke enthralling. 
They have struck for liberty; 

And now, in the hour of their darkest need, 
They have called to us : shall we hear and heedf 



192 POEMS RELATING TO \ 

Their pennon has long been flying 

And waving in the wind; 
But the wounded, dead and dying 
They have left in the ditch behind; 

While onward marches the patriot band 
Gaunt famine stalks through the desert land ! 

They have fallen before the foeman, 

They have starved their homes beside, 
Until half a million yeoman 
And women and children died ; 

The blood of the slaughtered bedews the plain ; 
It has risen to heaven : shall it be in vain ? 



Cuba Libre. 

Hear the cry of Cuba calling 

To the land of liberty ; 
Help us, brothers, or we perish, 

Help us, brothers, or we die. 
We are starving in our dwellings, 

We are falling in the field; 
We are dying by the thousands; 

Help us, ere we sink or yield. 

By the name you love and cherish— 

Sacred name of Washington, 
Let the Pilgrims' brave descendants 

Lead your patriot armies on. 
By their deeds and bright example 

Blazon acts as worthy still. 
In the cause of right and justice, 

Strike with eager heart and will. 



THE CUBAN WAB. 193 

Strike until the monster tremble, 
Strike until the butcher flee, 

Strike until the wrong is righted; 
Strike again for liberty! 

'Till the Spaniard in his frenzy- 
Feels again God's righteous laws, 

Not 'till then let the sword of vengeance 
Cease to strike in freedom's cause. 



Columbia's Lament. 

There's rosemary, that's for remembrance; and there's 
pansies, that's for thoughts. — Ophexia in Hamlet. 

I mourn my fallen heroes, 

The sailors of the Maine; 
Though dead, they are not vanquished, 

Their spirits rise again; > 

They live in hearts of freemen 

As brave and true as they 
Who stood for home and country 

On Feedom's natal day. ; 

I mourn my murdered sailors, 

But not in vain they died, 
If quelled the haughty tyrant 

The Spaniard in his pride; 
If the insatiate demon 

Be made to bite the dust, 
I ask not earth to render 

The bodies in her trust. 



194 POEMS RELATING TO 

I mourn my murdered children; 

They slumber in a land 
Unconsecrate by freedom 

By blood-stained breezes fanned; 
Within a foreign harbor 

Their mouldering bones decay; 
But their souls are marching onward 

For freedom to make way. 

I mourn my gallant seamen 

By cruel treachery slain; 
Soon shall my glorious banner 

To victory lead again. 
No foe shall dare dishonor 

This emblem of the free; 
No king or tyrant dare molest 

Our blood-bought liberty! 

Lift up again that standard 

As high as when it led 
Ten hundred thousand heroes, 

The living and the dead; 
And may still wave in triumph 

In thickest of the fight, 
Our flag of white and crimson, 
t With stars of heavenly light I 

Beneath its folds shall gather 
The brave on sea and land, 
The Northern and the Southern 

Shall re-united stand — 
No North, no South, no East, no West, 
■ When the bugle-call shall run 



THE CUBAN WAR. 195 

Prom New York to Alabama 
And from Maine to Oregon. 

Arise, Columbia's soldiers 

Who've never known defeat, 
Once more beside the camp-fire 

Our armies soon shall meet. 
I mourn my murdered heroes, 

But not in vain the blow, 
If the ancient wrong is righted, 

And tyranny laid low! 



The Noble Labors of Miss Clara Barton 
in Relieving Suffering in Cuba. 

History's pages oft record the deeds 

Of heroes in the bloody ranks of war 

"Who bore full many an honorable scar, 
And won the laurels of fame's earthly meeds; 
And sometimes, too, an angel of mercy stands, 

To soothe the suffering and relieve the pain; 
So even in this plague-spot, gentle hands 
Have banished want, and misery chased away. 

And be her labors not spent in vain; 
In realms where peace shall hold her sovereign sway. 
Let her example multiply again, 

This lofty type of devoted womanhood, 

The champion of a noble sisterhood, 
The good saint — Alma of this latter day. 



196 rOEMIS RELATING TO 

The Maine. 

The Cuban hosts in battle drawn 

Long fought upon the purple plain ; 
They fought and bled, by hope led on, 

To glut the wrath of savage Spain; 
They fought and bled, they almost won, 

Their banner sank, but rose again ; 
The tyrant knew each patriot son 

Would fight to death to rend his chain. 

He knew, and filled with demon hate 

He longed to strike the fatal blow ; 
But could not stem the tide of fate, 

Nor conquer so elusive foe; 
He saw, and spread a poisoned bait — 

What wiles doth not the treachour knowt 
For unsuspecting men to wait 

And whelm them in one overthrow 

Had Spanish valor even strained 

A point with cowardice, forsooth. 
Had even Spanish friendship feigned, 

Stolen but the semblance of the truth ; 
Had in his heart one drop remained 

Of pity, or of kindly ruth, 
E'en Spanish cruelty had disdained 

TLis crime to innocence and youth. 

He saw complete his frenzied spite; 

He laughed, he jeered, if laugh he may. 
Whom fiends of hell must take delight 

To rack with torture night and day; 



THE CUBAN WAR. 19T 

But brief his joy, Oppression's might 

Sinks to a slow but sure decay; 
The foes of Justice have to fight 

A stronger host than we or they. 

Though now as churchman he may shout 

Religion, vaunt his piety. 
No Pope or priest can ere wipe out 

His deep, consuming infamy; 
Augmented forces clang about 

His heels till he is forced to fly. 
As Freedom's armies turn to rout 

The foes of home and liberty. 



Prophetic. 

Boom the cannon from our warships, 

Thickly fly the shot and shell ; 
Spain condemned to chains and darkness. 

Hears the message that they tell. 
Those are fearful words they utter, 

'Tis the doom by heaven decreed. 
For each slaughtered son of freedom 

Soon a son of Spain shall bleed. 

Trembles then the modern tyrant, 

Like the monarch near his fall, 
When he saw his fate foretelling 

The handwriting on the wall. 
Shook his limbs as with the palsy, 

And his sceptre smote the ground, 
As he read the dread inscription: 

"Thou art weighed and wanting found." 



198 I 'OEMS RELATING TO 

Assassination of Canovas. 

(Senor Canovas Del Castillo, Prime Minister of Spain, 
who declared that a war of extermination should be waged 
against the Cubans, literally paved his way to power with 
human skulls.) 

Thy fate woke little pity, no regret, 
Canovas, save that the blow should have sooner fallen 
Than when the assassin wrought thy destined end. 
Few tears were shed; none save by his friends — 
If friends such monsters have — kindred wretches — 
Who fly like butterflies around a throne 
And buzz about a kingly court for favor, 
Yield servile homage for weak words of praise, 
With mean ambitions scorning higher things, 
And hope to profit by liberty's expiring groans. 
The wicked may have wept his taking off, 
The just rejoiced to behold his overthrow. 
The young unfledged Republic grimly smiled 
At promised deliverance, as sent from heaven. 
The prattling infant of scarce two years growth, 
Beheld and crowed and clapped his hands in glee. 
The slave for freedom felt of his shackles 
And looked to see them fall ; the starving wretches 
In Morro's frowning walls, took heart again. 
The hills by Cuba's martyrs trod, once more 
Were clothed in living verdure, and the valea 
Where died the famished and blood flowed on- 
staunched 
Prom wounds innumerous as ocean 's waves. 
Or sands upon the sea shore, bloomed and smiled 
In green and golden flowers, prophets of peace. 



THE CUBAN WAR. 199 

The spirits of the dead descended 

And hovered o'er their much-loved isle to welcome 

The hoped for end of strife; the wo riding's pride 

Was humbled before the dawn of liberty. 

Cruelty felt defrauded of his prey, 

As Hell's gate opened wide, but shrank to receive 

Its late arrived inmate ; even Satan felt 

The touch polution of this modern Nero. 

On earth Tyranny stood aghast, 

Then trembling, fled frightened at his own shadow. 

But false the promise, all such hopes were vain 

That this event would turn back the tide of blood. 

Is there in Spain either pity or remorse ? 

Ask Lopez, Marti, Cuba's martyred dead, 

Her slaughtered innocents, her crimsoned fields. 

Thy allies, Cuba, are fates, destinies. 

And viewless tenants of the air; spirits 

Of the invisible world which fight for thee, 

Keeping daily watch and ward ; winged messengers 

Which come to do thy bidding in wind and cloud ; 

The Ruler of the tempest and the gale; 

The powers of heaven and the good of earth; 

Truth, justice, the leagued armies of the mind 

And heart of man, patriots of every clime. 

And all which lives and works for human weal. 

Is there in Spain either pity or remorse? 
Ask Lopez, Marti, Cuba's martyred dead: 
Her slaughtered innocents, her crimsoned fields! 
General Naecfsco Lopez planned the first revolt against 
Spain in 1848, but was unsuccessful, being captured three years 
later and garroted. 

Genebal Jose Makti, generally known as the Apostle of 
Freedom, was treacherously decoyed into ambush and shot, 
May 19, 1895. 



200 THE LIGHT OF LIFE. 

These, too, thy allies and thy witnesses; 
Rapine and slaughter, famine, and the sword, 
Agonies, and women and children's groans; 
Crimes, murders, tortures, tyrannicide and blood j 
Unhallowed rites, and sacrificial deaths; 
The voices of the immemorial dead. 



The Cry of the Nations. 

When will there be an end of strife? 

When will return the "piping times of peace;" 
When sheathed will be the sword and bloody knife^ 

And war and carnage cease? 

When will the nations, joining hands 

In mutual love and common brotherhood, 

Proclaim this edict to the troubled lands: 
"Shed thou no drop of blood?" 

Then shall the blessed influence shed 

Of white-winged Peace descended from above, 

With mercy inspire the nations' council-head. 
And bring the reign of love. 

Freedom, I hear thy piercing cry 

Borne on the distant breeze to tyrannous Spain ; 
I hear thy mourning turned to mockery. 

And laughter at thy pain. 

There is a nation bound and set 

In darker bondage than was the Afric slave, 
O'er which foul Cruelty his sword doth whet 

To fill the unmarked grave. 



THE LIGHT OF LIFE. 201 

Again I hear the mournful cries 

Of thousands of warriors slain, the strong and 
weak, 
Whose ghosts reanimate from the tomb arise, 

And, rattling their death-chains speak. 

How long wilt thou arm withdraw 

To succor; how long thy wrath restrain, God? 
When will Thy might the nations overawe ; 
Be felt Thine avenging rod? 



Gomez* Reply to the Offer of a Bribe, 

I, too, confess, the generous blood 
That mantles in a patriot's frame. 

And shall I sell my country's good, 
My noble name pollute with shame? 

No, while a drop of blood remains. 

Thy offer gladly I resign ; 
Know thou a bond of blood and chains 

Shall not be forged by hands of mine. 

Upon the lowly tented field, 

Our patriots have battled long. 
Shall I for all thy money yield, 

Betray my land, add one more wrong? 

,1, in a thousand bloody fights, 

Have warred, a veteran I have grown. 
I ask no gift but human rights, 
I'd spurn the offer of a throne. 



202 THE LIGHT OF LIFE. 

Fierce murder stalks through all the land, 

War's deathful meteor gleams afar. 
Thou'st pillaged with a ruthless hand, 
Sunk in the wave seems freedom's star. 

Within our vales and circling hills, 
Thy baleful fires are kindling fast. 

Our patriot's life-blood stains our rills, 
They fall like leaves before the blast. 

But on the lowly tented field 

I'll still strive on as I have striven. 

Nor crave thy aid or arms, nor yield 

My trust forever fixed on heaven. 



The Dying Soldier on the Field of Battle 

Hark, I hear the bugle's music, 

Swelling loudly on the air, 
See our column onward presses, 

Braver still the foe to dare. 

Hangs above the smoke of battle. 

Like a banner in the sky. 
Hiding from the eye of heaven. 
Those who fall or wounded die. 

"Forward! forward!" shout the horsemen; 

Fearlessly they dash and ride. 
Where the conflict fiercely rages. 

Rolling like an angry tide. 



THE CUBAN WAR. 203- 

Now they scale the gleaming summit, 
Now our flag waves on the height; 

Look! the very clouds rain blessings, 
Frantic on the field of fight. 

Let me see our banner waving, 

Then fall quickly, shades of death, 

Let me hear their shout of triumph. 
Then may heaven take my breath. 

Hark! I hear my comrades calling, 

'Tis for deeds that I have done, 
Over on the lonely mountain, 

"Victory! the field is won!" 

But my life-blood fast is ebbing; 

Life to death will quickly yield. 
Then the sergeant will note briefly: ;. 

"Veteran dead upon the field." 

One more soldier of the battle, 

To be numbered with the slain. 
Where the conflict raged the fiercest, 

And the bullets fell like rain. 

Never will I hear the bugle 

Sound its music in the air. 
Never will I hear the summons 

Calling me to Sabbath prayer. 

At the roll-call I'll be absent. 

Absent at the soldiers' mess; 
Never will my living presence 

There reward your watchfulness. 



204' POEMS RELATING TO 

But beside the evening camp-fire, 
You will feel my spirit nigh, 
When you tell again the story 
How a soldier brave can die. 

And when silent is the cannon, 

When peace reigns from s^a to sea 

And the war-drum throbs no longer, 
Glory then may sigh for me! 



Sonnet on "the Maine." 

Fair ship that sailed with banners proudly gay 

To a dark doom in treacherous Southern seas; 

No note save gladness rang upon the breeze ; 
Soft blew the wind that wafted thee away. 

Majestic spectacle! — a nation's pride, 

And thy brave seamen, with hearts unterrified. 
Noble they purpose, and thy mission peace, 

But soon to cruel ferocity a prey, 
Fated with thy crew to sink beneath the waves; 
But Freedom builds altars on her heroes' graves, 

And Phoenix-like from thy ashes a million flames 
Awoke in others as nobly to do or die. 

To abrogate the Castillian's pious shames, 
And strike a blow for Justice and Liberty. 



THE CUBAN WAR. 205 



The Four Naval Heroes. 

We need a man for the Philippines; 

Where is one who will fill the bill ? 

Who will deal death bolts to the Spanish lines; 

For many a bullet is whistling still 

And drenched with blood is fair Cuba's soil. 

Which can not be wiped out by the tyrant's spolL 

Yes, there is one — George Dewey by name, 

(Now not altogether unknown by fame,) 

And he tackles the job like a fiend of flame, 

His orders: ''Destroy that Spanish fleet." 

And he did it certainly, very complete. 

While the world gazed in wonder at men and crew. 

To learn what courage and skill can do. 

Spain's fleet had quietly siink to rest 

At Manila, and not a sail in sight. 

Securely there till the morning light 

It slumbers, rocked on the wave's calm breast. 

Co aid the Admiral have dreamt that a ship could pass 

The frowning fortress of Corregidor, 

With its guns and batteries on sea and shore, 

With its torpedoes and thick-mined ocean floor. 

That like travelers in the fierce Simoon, 

Or leaves in the blast, ere the next day's noon. 

That fleet should melt like a fleet of glass? 

Slowly drift by the ships, each one. 

Then solemnly booms a sentinel gun ; 

And shells burst like the rocket's meteor glow, 

And at daylight appear to face the foe. 



206 POEMS RELATING TO 

Up before breakfast and have a whack, 
And not one ship could stand that attack; 
Then a brief rest and at it again, 
Till the flames burst forth from each prison pen. 
And 'tis seen through the din and the battle smoke 
The Yankees are dealing them stroke after stroke, 
Till the last ship of that fleet that so proudly sailed 
Is burned or sunk on the quivering bar. 
And they, who with hope, the daylight hailed 
Soon felt all the cruel reverses of war. 
So the battle raged, till at nine o'clock, 
Where was there a ship that was fit for the dock ? 
Three cheers for the hero who won that day, 
Three cheers for Dewey, again I say. 

"Cervera's fleet is safe in the bay. 

But to keep him there, now who'll find a way?" 

"Report," said Sampson, "or some fine day or night 

He'll give us the slip and there'll be no fight." 

Who is that youth with a stern-set eye 

And an unblenched cheek, he says, "I'll try." 

Lieutenant Hobson, ship builder, appear! 

And there's not one doubt in his countenance clear. 

Although 'tis a devilish, ticklish job, 

There 's a lot of them want it, but 'tis no go ; 

He will have it, whether or no, 

There'll be only a few with faithful Hob. 

"Go, then," said the Captain, "but look out 

For Spanish shot and shell flying about. 

For remember, they've eyes as sharp as tacks; 

That they're cunning as foxes and sleek as wax." 

So the men set out in their little boat. 

As brave a craft as was ever afloat. 



THE CUBAN WAR. 20T 

And they stuck it so fast in the oozy mud, 

It could never be budged by wind or flood. 

Now, Admiral C, escape if you can! 

Get around that ship across your path, 

And steer past our guns without scorch or scath, 

Then Yankee Doodle will confess you're a man 

Of no common mettle, and above your brood ; 

The peer by nature, as well as blood 

Of us, though we've many brave and good. 

How Santiago was won all the world knows. 

How Spain's fleet was destroyed, like the Armada of 

old • 
By Schley and Sampson, those fighters bold, 
Finished completely, and at the evening's close, 
There was not one ship that was fit to be seen, 
And never one that could put to sea 
Has over and over again been told 
And need not be repeated by me. 
'Twas a glorious victory in a righteous cause. 
And the feathers still stick in the eagle's claws. 
All honors to the heroes who wear the blue. 
To Dewey and Schley and Sampson, too, 
Who proved what Yankee blood can do, 
But forget not Hobson of Dixie land. 
Who held his life in his right hand 
And counted it light in freedom's name. 
And of all brave deeds that tongue or pen 
Shall tell, these will shine like a beacon flame 
As bright as any on scrolls of fame. 
And when 'tis told o'er and o'er again. 
And our children's children shall read about 
The brave deeds that these heroes did — 
For there's never a page so dark and dim 



20ik POEMS RELATING TO 

In our liistory they can not spell it out — 
They will cheer for their flag with an added vim. 
Then think of Hobson and cheer for him. 
Then they'll cheer again with a hearty zest, 
For Dewey and Schley and all the rest, 
From the poorest sailor up to the best, 
From the biggest officer down to the crew. 
Who whipped the Spaniards so black and blue. 
Then cheer for Yankee Doodle Do, 

They will read in that history a meaning plain, 

'Twas righteous principle, not love of gain. 

That nerved those heroes to put to flight 

The foe and win in the glorious fight. 

And their faith in their country will cast out doubt. 

Then hurrah for the grand old Ship of State, 

The Union, now more strong and great. 

If in balmy breezes or poisonous breath, 

She may safely ride through the jaws of death. 

Let that Ship now brave the winter's gale, 

Or unfurl in the summer breeze her sail, 

Let every mast be torn and rent. 

When the thunders of war shake the firmament, 

Or quietly sink to an anchored rest, 

When Peace broods o'er the calm ocean's breast j 

Let horror and darkness make to quail the brave, 

Or love watch over the charmed-wave. 

Let the red lance of conflict wave on high. 

Or olive browed Concord drift smiling by ; 

We will feel not now the battle stroke, 

We will dread not the seals of wrath unbroke; 

With God as our refuge and shield from harm, 

We will fear not the tempest nor heed the storm. 



THE CUBAN WAB. 20^ 

All honor, then, to the heroes four, 

(And Heaven knows there were many more,) 

And some who never returned to shore. 

To Dewey and Sampson, to Hobson and Schley, 

And all who were ready to do or die; 

And to stand by the ship while the flag floats high. 

For George and Rich and for Win and Bill, 

Three cheers — and we give them with right good will. 



Thanksgiving Day Ode. 

Written in commemoration of the day appointed for Na- 
tional Thanksgiving, Sunday, July 10th, 1898. 

On this bright, July morning. 

Earth's bosom with fair flowers adorning. 

Fitting it is to raise 
Aloft the anthem and the voice of praise 

To the all bounteous Giver, 
Who did from death our hosts deliver; 
For fruits of virtory. 
On land and sea, 
Let the choral song be sung, ascend the note of jubilee. 

Not unresponsive is the sound that swells 
On high, the music of the Sabbath bells, 
Mingling its prelusive strain 

With song and thanks in our hearts that echo o'er 
again ; 
But for the unreturning brave. 
Let tears be shed and memory decorate the grave. 



210 POEMS RELATING TO 

Now peace doth stand, : ( 

Uniting with firmer band, 
The nation knit anew by friendship's chain, 

Spuming all sordid motives and all meaner gain. 
The aged and the youth 
Have learned a newer truth ; 
Gone with the rebel rag. 
Which had usurped our flag. 
Plucking the bright stars down from heaven's dome, 

Is the rebellious spirit 
Of those who would their country disinherit; 
A stronger life we live one country, land and home. 

One people and one 
Destiny beneath the shining sun. 

When Freedom, with the sword and flame, 

On her unerring mission came, 
A patriot race to free from Oppression's yoke, 
And the haughty powers of Tyranny to tame, 
She wrought her chained ear 
For elemental war; 
The pent up Aetna broke, 
Rekindled by the fury she awoke. 
Aroused by her sacred name. 
Her thousands of minions at her bidding came. 
East, West, North, South, from sea to sea, 
They gathered in the name of Liberty. 
Cruelty felt her mailed hand. 
And before the powers, of Justice could not stand. 

He shrank aghast, 
Or fell like leaves before the winter's blast, 
But gave one fitful gasp — it was his last. 

Baise high the paean of victory ; 

But greater praise deserveth magnanimity. , 



THE CUBAN WAR. 211 

Heaven did the tyrant a respite give, 

(He may reform, forsake his path and live.) 
But not to hold in servile chain, 

His kingdom for his worldly gain, 
Or captives in pernicious toils, 
His subjects for his spoils, 
To pillage, murder, starve at his lustful will, 
The blood of innocents to waste and spill. 
Or taint freedom's soil with unmerited abuse. 

On a defenseless people the dogs of hell to loose. 
And be not unforgot, 
This lesson in our thought, 
Though persecution may triumph for a day, 
Though groan with victims black, 
Stake, pillory and rack. 
They must perish at length in Truth's dissolving t&!f. 
Though right may be usurped by wrong, 
'Tis not forever, nor for long, 
Brief his triumph, weak or strong. 
At last from polar land to burning zone 
Justice must reign — God sitteth on his throne. 



212 POEMS RELATING TO 

Sonnet 

(Written in commemoration of American Victoriea.) 

While happy yet, and still more happy I 

To record the acts of those who "with love far 

brought, ' ' 
Great feats of daring and achievement wrought 

And carried our arms to unstained victory; 

Yet leave I not that record willingly, 

"Without the meed of some melodious tear," 
For those who fell in battle to rise no more, 
God light their journey to the Halcyon Shore, 

Their deeds shall America for aye revere. 

Justice hath triumphed, now our foes are fled. 

Right rules the nations still, and — glorious thought, 
The light of Liberty is unquenched — God reigns. 
And now. North, South, East, West, sound Free- 
dom's strains, 

While Peace and Love o'er all their sheltering wings 
outspread. 



TEE CUBAN WAR. 213 



Christmas. 

With snow and sleet and ice and rain, 
This blessed day is ushered in. 
Of peace on earth, good will to men. 
Hark! angel voices softly sing, 
Paeans of praise to the new-born king. 



. An Evening Scene. 

Soft as the sound of the low wave's ebbing plash, 

That lulls to silence all the turbulent main, 

Sinks nature's music and the day's loud din. 

To the droning hum of insects and of bees, 

Whose pipings fill the interludes of song. 

Slowly night's shades descend from the vaulted skies, 

After the day's red glare, the landscape lies 

In yellow splendor, saffron robed and crowned. 

Half light, half dark, which, far and wide diffused, 

And dim almost as fairyland and vague, 

Makes all things of one texture with tfie sky. 

Wrapped in a dull repose, _the drowsy earth. 

Slumbers beneath the tranquil light of stars, 

Rocked in the cradle of the elements. 

"The lowing herds wind slowly o'er the lea," 

Cropping the thick-set herbage to the full. 

The silver moon that lights the scene breathes forth 



214 POEMS RELATING TO 

A gracious benison of peace to earth. 

All else is silence, save sweet sounds borne from far, 

Of the melodious invisible choirs, 

Chanting the Creator's praise in verdant groves 

Of swaying boughs thick interspersed with leaves, 

Whose music echoes through the quiet air, 

And ripples down the solitary vale. 



DEC 30 1910 



•.:•;,' C*^ 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



